The greatest achievement
by RedHatMeg
Summary: Jack Murdock wakes up in the alley, in the place he doesn't recognize, not knowing where his son is. Will he find out what happened to him? And will he be happy with what he discovers about Matt?
1. Part 1

**I know I've kinda used Jack Murdock in my other multi-chapter story, but this fic was in my mind for quite some time and I wanted to write it.**

 **Please, review. Tell me, if it's any good.**

 **Part 1**

Jack woke up with a horrible headache. The pain emitted from his forehead (on its right side, to be exact). The cheering crowd was echoing in his memory, as he opened his eyes. At first everything was blurry, but he knew it was a day. He felt the asphalt under him and heard sounds of the street – cars, talks, even a barking dog… – coming from his left side. When his vision cleared, he realized that he's lying in the alley, somewhere near his flat. There was a dumpster, back door to one of the buildings and a fire stairs.

Jack slowly sat up, his head still aching. He tried to remember how he got there. Memories, images, emotions were spinning in his mind, flowing into one, big mess. A very tough, but victorious fight with Creel. The euphoria that numbed the pain and exhaustion of his beaten up body. The audience shouting his name. Him listening to this shouts, feeling triumphant for the first time in his life. His hurry to come back home – to Matty, who probably has listened to the fight and was as happy as him…

What happened? Did he fainted? The last thing Jack remembered from that night was walking down this street and hearing the gunshot. Then there was nothing. His memory was failing him. Jack tried to remember, tried to recall every scrap of his mind around last night and find the lost information; tried to understand what happened on his way to Matty.

Matty!

The boy had to be really worried right now. If Jack spent here all night, then hearing this gunshot, his son must have thought that his old man could be wounded. Or dead, for that matter. Why nobody tried to wake the boxer up? Granted, there was a lot of drunkards here, getting wasted in the alleys and sleeping on the street after too many bottles, but people knew him and Matty! They could at least shouted to him to come back to his son.

Jack quickly got up and started to walk towards his block. His steps were getting faster. Last night, on his way home, he kept imagining Matty's face, when his loser father finally come back after such astounding victory. Jack couldn't wait to see Matt finally being proud of him. Cheering crowd and all the money he won during that fight, was nothing compared to this wonderful sensation that his son is proud of him.

But right now Matty was probably really worried, scared even. Well, it wasn't the first time when he was completely alone in their flat, but it was never for so long. Jack hoped that the kid didn't opened the door to anybody, nor went out, looking for his father. Leaving him alone was reckless enough, but letting blind child walk around in the middle of the night was even worse.

The streets looked weird. Yes, it were the same streets he grew up on, but he didn't recognize the cars, outfits and billboards. Still, he had more important things to do.

He finally got to their flat and knocked on the door. He waited for Matt to ask who is that, but there was no reply to the knocking. Jack assumed that Matt got tired and went to sleep. So the boxer knocked again, this time, however, he also called:

"Matt, open up, please!"

No answer.

"Matt, it's dad! Open up!"

The silence on the other side started to creep him out. This time Jack didn't knock, but banged on the door.

"Matt, it's dad! Are you there?! Open up!"

The sound of unlocking, but the person who opened the door wasn't his nine year old son, but an obese man with curly hair. Jack felt how his heart sunk in with fear. He didn't know this man.

"Who are you?" Was the first question he asked, but then came another: "Where is Matt?"

"Get out, you crazy bum." The man said.

He was going to close the door, but Jack quickly blocked them. Then he took the man by the collar and looked into his eyes.

"Where is Matt?" He replied, this time with quiet, intimidating voice. "Son of a bitch, what did you do to Matt?"

"Help! Help!" Screamed the stranger, but Jack silenced him with one quick kick in the stomach.

"If you hurt my son, bastard, I swear, I will brake every bone in your body."

"I don't know, what are you talking about!"

"It's my apartment! I've come here and expected to see my son, but I saw you! Who are you? And what have you done to Matt?"

"Listen up, man," Jack's victim tried to appease him. "I don't know who you are, but this is all just a mistake. I'm living in this flat for ten years now."

Jack turned his gaze off him and looked into the flat. The furniture was different, not to mention the wallpaper which – in addition – seemed to have few years, judging by the dirt and shredded edges. Another questions were spinning in Jack's head, as he checked the number on the door. Everything else seemed to be the same, he didn't enter the wrong block, and knocked to the wrong door, so how…?

Neighbors started to come out of their flats and suddenly Jack felt a lot of eyes staring at him, some of them with curiosity, some of them with enmity. A bit embarrassed, he released the man from his grip and took two steps back.

"What is happening here?" Some woman asked, and got the answer almost immediately:

"This madman started to bang on my door, asking about some kid, and when I opened, he attacked me, saying it's his apartment!"

For a moment still confused Jack was staring at them, not knowing what to do.

"I-I'm sorry." He finally spoke, looking at the current owner of his flat. "I'm so, _so_ sorry… I thought that…"

"Get out, or we call the police!" He heard from some elder lady.

Another moment of silence. Jack took a deep breath and started to ask about the address of the place he was in. The answers confirmed his suspicions – he was still in his block. But why everything seemed so different? The owner of his flat said, he was living there for ten years. But Jack _remembered_ last night – he remembered coming to Matt after the fight with Creel. Did he slept, God knows, how many years, and just like that woke up now? Was he in coma? He was sure that in that case he would wake up in the hospital, not in some dark alley.

"I was living here once." He said. "With a son."

One of the women came to him with expression of kindness. Probably seeing how confused he was, she smiled to him, then told her neighbors to come back to their flats. Only when they did it, she took Jack's arm.

"Come with me, sir." She whispered. "I will make you coffee, and you'll tell me about your son."

Jack let her lead him. After all, something weird was happening here and he needed some information.

Maybe this woman will tell him where Matty is.

"So," She started, when they were walking down the stairs. "you said the name of your son is Matt?"

"Yes." He replied.

"How he looks like?"

Jack had to stop and think about the answer. Not because he didn't remember how his own son looks like, but because – judging by apparent turn of events – it was highly possible that he now looked differently.

The woman stopped too and looked at him, waiting for whatever he was going to reply.

"Last time when I saw him, he was nine." Jack said finally and they started to move again. "He has dark hair and wears black shades. You see, he's blind."

"Oh…" Her eyebrows raised. "That's tough."

He thought she will take him to her apartment, but she led him out of the block.

"So what actually happened? You've lost him?" She continued the inquiring.

"I… I don't know what happened, really." Jack felt more lost with every minute. "I woke up in the alley… and suddenly the place, we were living in, was occupied by someone else."

"Don't worry. I know someone, who will help you."

He suddenly realized she was directing him to church. The same church he was attending with Matty every Sunday. At first he was against the idea of coming in, but then he thought that he might find there someone he knew – either from clergy or from parishioners. The nameless woman led him through the open door and then – when they realized no one was there – to sacristy.

"Father, I need your help." She said the moment when they entered the room.

At the table, looking through a (probably accountant) book, was sitting father Lantom. In spite of priest's grey hair and wrinkled face, Jack could easily recognize him. How long he was sleeping there, if the man who baptized his son, grew old?

"Yes, what is…?" Father Lantom began, but when he raised his gaze and saw Jack, he was rendered speechless. For a moment the priest was observing Jack with astonishment. He quickly returned to his sense and turned to the woman: "Thank you, but leave us alone for now, please. I have to talk with this gentleman, face to face."

"Well, okay." She shrugged and turned towards the door. "I have to go to work, either way."

They both said goodbye to each other and Jack was left alone with the priest, who was still staring at him with surprise. Father Lantom stood up and slowly approached the boxer.

"Jack," He whispered. "is that you?"

"Yes." Jack replied. "I need your help, father."

"Of course." The priest leaned his hand towards the chair on the other side of the table. "Let's talk about it."

He himself returned to his previous seat. Jack knew father Lantom tried to remain calm and he even managed to look very composed, but there was just something hanging in the air. Some kind of tension. Nevertheless, he told the priest about everything that happened to him – how he won with Creel, how he heard the gunshot on the way home, how he woke up in the alley and how he found out about his flat being occupied. Father Lantom listened carefully, but Jack knew that he was also thinking about something. He probably was contemplating the whole situation.

When the boxer finished his story, the priest straightened himself, but was silent.

"I know it sounds crazy." Jack said. "I can't comprehend it myself. I only know that I woke up in the alley and everything is different. Like I was sleeping for couple of years."

"It certainly looks like it." Was father Lantom's reply.

"How long?" Jack asked, clenching his hands on the chair's armrests. "I need to find Matty. Can you tell me how long I was sleeping and where is my son?"

"Jack, listen to me carefully." The priest leaned towards him. "You won't like it what I'm about to say, but you have to hear it."

Jack felt how his muscle tensed. He already didn't like what father Lantom was saying.

"That night when you won with Creel, you've been shot. Pretty close to your block, actually, because Matthew heard the gunshot and found you."

Sound of the gunshot echoed in the boxer's memory. He suddenly realized that he's cold.

"You've died that night, Jack. You've been dead for almost twenty years."

"So I'm a ghost?" Jack chuckled nervously.

"I don't know." Father Lantom shook his head. "I'm not an expert with ghosts, but you seem very corporal to me. And people didn't have problems with seeing you."

Jack was thinking about it for a moment. That was true. If he supposed to be a ghost, he shouldn't be seen by all those people in the block. Or heard for that matter. He felt very much alive, so how was it possible that he woke up twenty years later, just like that?

Suddenly he remembered. When he decided to not lose to Creel… he knew he might die. He was mentally prepared for it, when he left the ring that fateful night. He only hoped that it will take awhile for his killer to make a move. That he will at least manage to come back to Matty and share his triumph before it happens. Not that they will get him the same night.

He shook his head and looked at the priest.

"So if I'm not a ghost, how is this possible that I'm walking around normally?"

"I don't know, Jack. But it would be wise, if you try to avoid people, who might recognize you."

At first Jack nodded with approval, but then a sudden realization hit him.

"What about Matty?"

"Unfortunately, that includes him too. At least for now. I know it seems harsh, Jack, but we have to find out how it happened. Maybe your stay here is only temporary."

It seemed that he wanted to say something else, but he didn't.

"Can you at least tell me, how he's doing?" Jack asked.

Another moment of silence. This time father Lantom turned his gaze away, like he had something to hide. Jack had a bad feeling about that. What happened to Matty, when his dad was dead?

But then father Lantom straightened himself again and said with the most sympathetic smile he could muster:

"He's a lawyer, Jack. A very good one, for that matter."

"A lawyer?"

Jack always hoped that his son will become someone better than him; someone who will be using his head than fists. When that cruel accident happened, he urged Matt to learn even more. Many times he was thinking about who Matt will be in the future. A doctor? An artist? Maybe historian? He liked history…

For the first time in this horrible day Jack beamed with happiness. His eyes even seemed to get a little teary.

"My little Matty is a lawyer." He repeated.

"He has his own law firm. A small one, but he's happy with it. 'Nelson and Murdock', as I recall."

"That's wonderful! He was always such a bright child."

"Yes, he was." Father Lantom admitted with smile, but it suddenly weakened.

Jack got serious too.

"There is something you're not telling me, father." He didn't ask, he stated it.

"Mainly because Matthew told me it in confessional." The priest said and looked at Matt's father. "You've raised him well, Jack. He's a good man, who wants to do what's right. That's all, you have to know."

Jack wasn't convinced. He was just observing his interlocutor, who looked at him back. This thing father Lantom was hiding from him about Matty seemed to be something big.

"You must be cold." The priest stood up. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please." Said Jack.

Father Lantom only nodded and lead the boxer to the parish. He left his guest in the living room and went to the kitchen.

Jack wanted to see his son _so_ badly… When he woke up that day, he wanted to share with him the victory with Creel. Later he only wanted to find his boy, who suddenly was absent from their flat. Now he was _dying_ to see Matty after all those years, he apparently slept over; to see the man his little boy grew out to be.

Jack didn't even know how his son looked like anymore.

But will Matt be happy to meet him again? Will he greet his dad with open arms? He had his own life now. Will there be a place for his suddenly resurrected sorry excuse of a father?

Maybe he could at least look at Matt's life from the distance. Maybe he could just observe, if he couldn't come out? As father Lantom said, they didn't know if this state is temporary. So he was sitting here, wasting time, when he could at least do some little investigation. He knew the name of Matt's firm. He could ask about it.

So before father Lantom could say or do anything, Jack Murdock stood up and left parish through the front door.


	2. Part 2

**Update time! Jack Murdock meets Foggy Nelson!**

 **Part 2**

Finding "Nelson and Murdock" took Jack more time than he expected. First three people he asked for directions seemed to not know where Matt's firm was actually located. Next person he asked, was able to tell him, but even following their instructions, the boxer soon found himself lost again. For about two minutes, he was standing in the middle of the street, looking for any indication where he was and how far from his destination.

So how happy he was when he saw a sign in the distance with big letters: "Nelson and Murdock". He wanted to run, but instead he approached the sign slowly, mesmerized by the second name. The closer he got, the more he could see the full sign. He stopped few inches away from it and just observed the letters.

 _Nelson and Murdock. Attorneys at Law._

Jack felt the pang of sadness. He was always telling Matty about the importance of school. He never let the kid leave the homework for the next day. And now, seeing this sign and name Murdock on it, Jack couldn't help but think that his son had to work so hard to get to this point. The boxer could easily imagine his little Matty studying all night for exams and tests. He had to get through elementary school, high school and finally college. He had to go to university, where he had to not only find a suitable books and memorize tons of material, but also interact with people. Jack wondered on which university Matt was studying law; how many friends he made (if any) and if he ever was in the relationship with a girl.

Matty was always a very quiet child. The fact that his father was a constant loser didn't help him get much playmates, and after the accident he was even less popular. How lonely he must have been for all those years?

Jack wasn't on his graduation. He was dreaming of the day he will see his son receiving the diploma Matt worked so hard to achieve, and he didn't live long enough. He also didn't live long enough to teach his boy how to talk with girls; and to explain where children come from. There were things every good parent had to do with their child at some point in their life, and Jack felt like he was robbed of something. This graduation was the harshest hit. Matty didn't know how much his old man was proud of him.

"Good morning, sir!" Someone's cheerful voice took Jack back to reality.

The boxer looked on his left. The voice belonged to a bit fat man with long hair and round face. His looks contrasted with the elegant suit, he was wearing.

"Are you in need of legal help?" The man asked, still jovial.

For a moment Jack didn't know what to say, but he quickly realized that this stranger was referring to the sign. Suddenly the boxer got an idea.

"Yes, I need an attorney. Do you know if 'Nelson and Murdock' are open?"

"Well, sir, they are. And I know it, because I'm the Nelson part of this board." As to prove his point, the man pointed his name on the sign. Then he extended his arm toward Jack and introduced himself: "Franklin Nelson, attorney."

Jack was hesitant for a moment, but then he shyly shook mister Nelson's hand.

"Jack…" He began, but then realized that he couldn't tell this man his real surname. He had to come up with a fake one. So he said the first word that came to his mind: "Battle."

"Pleased to meet you, mister Battle." Was Nelson's response and then the lawyer opened the door. "Please, come with me."

He led Jack to the office. The first thing that caught boxer's attention was the name of Matt's company written on the white sheet of paper, taped to the office door. Next, it was a young, blonde woman, doing something at the copy machine. Once she heard them opening the door, she stopped her work and smiled to them.

"Hi, Foggy." She said to mister Nelson.

"Hi, Karen." The 'Foggy' replied and pointed Jack with open hand. "This is mister Battle. Mister Battle," He turned to the boxer. "this is miss Karen Page. She's our secretary."

When Jack shook her hand too, mister Nelson asked:

"Matt still didn't come?"

Hearing his son's name, Jack looked at the lawyer, who probably didn't even notice this movement as he was focused on the secretary.

"He said, he have something to do on the police station. But he'll be here soon."

Mister Nelson only shrugged and looked at his newest client.

"Well then, how about we discuss your case in my office, mister Battle?"

"Of-of course." Said Jack quietly.

They moved to the small room on the left, with big window on the street. Mister Nelson took a seat at the desk, while Jack sat on the chair in front of it. He looked around, realizing that whole office had really old-looking equipment. (He had no idea how modern office equipment should look like in this day and age, but the one he spotted in "Nelson and Murdock. Attorneys at Law." had scratches and lost some of its colors.)

Mister Nelson leaned towards his client, giving Jack a light smile, and proceeded:

"So what brings you here, mister Battle?"

Jack realized that now, when he was here, in his son's workplace, he didn't know what to tell mister Nelson. He didn't think his idea through. And the lawyer was waiting for him to say what was the case he came with. If Jack will be silent for too long, this guy will get suspicious.

"I…" The boxer began, his head still empty, until he realized that he was sitting in front of somebody second time after the awakening. This thought gave him something to work with. "Can I have a cup of coffee?"

"Oh," The lawyer's eyebrows raised and he smiled. "certainly. I will be here in a minute."

To Jack's surprise, he stood up, but Karen quickly came in and said:

" _I_ will make that coffee, Foggy. _You_ stay here and take care of mister Battle." She turned to the boxer and asked with a sympathetic smile: "What kind of coffee would you like?"

"Oh." He smiled sheepishly. "Black. With sugar."

"Black with sugar, right away." She said.

And before any of the two men could say anything else, she left them and went to the kitchen part of the office.

Jack looked at mister Nelson.

"I know it looks rather weird," The lawyer started, but then leaned closer to Jack and whispered: "but her coffee is horrible."

"I've heard you, Foggy Nelson!" Karen called from the kitchen.

"You're very… laid back here." Jack said.

"I assure you, mister Battle, that we are professionals. Me and my partner, mister Murdock, graduated from Columbia University _laude_ and _summa cum laude_."

Jack wasn't sure what that meant but he suspected that it was some kind of distinction. He only nodded with understanding.

"It's just that we are a small firm." The lawyer continued. "We have only three workers: me, my business partner, mister Murdock, and our secretary, miss Page. So you see, it's not hard to get close. And me and my partner were friends since the law school."

It took Jack a couple of seconds to register this one particular word. _Friend_. This man in front of him was Matty's friend.

A sudden thought crossed boxer's head.

"What kind of man is mister Murdock?" He asked, just when Karen entered and put the coffee mug in front of him.

Mister Nelson's eyebrows raised once again, but then he leaned comfortably in the chair and smiled fondly. Karen, on the other hand, was doing something in the other room, but once or twice Jack could see her watch them from the distance.

"He's a good lawyer, if that's what you're asking about." Mister Nelson finally said. "This firm was his idea. He didn't want to represent big companies, but a little man." 'Foggy' smiled. "He dragged me into this. I'm not complaining, though, we've dreamed about our own firm since forever."

"Oh…" Jack nodded with interest.

"He's very stubborn, you know." Mister Nelson went on. "When he sets his mind on something, sooner or later, it's done. You will see when we take your case."

Well, stubbornness was Murdocks' main family trait. Jack didn't want Matt to be a boxer, but he wanted him to never give up. Suddenly Jack could imagine a young lawyer standing in the courtroom and fiercely demanding justice for innocents. And the old boxer couldn't help, but smile at this image.

"Trust me," Mister Nelson smiled, suddenly full of himself. "you couldn't get better attorneys, than Nelson and Murdock, mister Battle. We are small, but awesome."

Jack looked at mister Nelson.

"And I tell you," The lawyer went on. "whoever will be representing your opponents, Murdock will eat them for breakfast, while Nelson will eat them for dessert."

"Aren't you going too far with those metaphors, Foggy?" Karen asked from the other room.

"I'm only telling the truth." Mister Nelson retorted.

Jack knew that the man in front of him wanted to convince him to hire them, but the boxer could feel the sense of brotherhood in Mister Nelson's tone. Jack could feel that Matt and "Foggy" went through a lot and that they were real friends. It was apparent in the way the lawyer was talking about their law firm and about his partner. Jack even suspected that nickname "Foggy" was Matty's idea (although, he didn't know why his son would call his best friend like that).

Another image flashed before Jack's eyes. An image of two law students spending time together – laughing, talking, maybe even drinking together. An image of his son being laid back and… happy. And it made the old man smile.

A friend. His Matty had a friend. A good friend, who will always have his back. A good friend who will always be there for him. A good friend, who will be always treating him normally.

"So, mister Battle," 'Foggy' leaned towards his client. "I've told you about us. Now, what brings you here? How can we help you?"

Jack dropped his gaze, supposedly because he was shy, but in reality – to think of a good lie. He almost felt bad for poor Matt's friend. "Foggy" was probably hoping to gain a client, but it was Jack's rouse to learn something about his son. And the man was trying so hard to convince him to hire them… He was Matt's best friend, for Pete's sake! He not only was eager to help Jack, but also told him about his son. Jack thought that he should give him something in return. Something at least partially real.

For a moment he was contemplating telling him: "I've been shot in the alley.", but then he realized that it might later give him away, so he decided against it.

"Mister Battle, don't worry." He heard Karen's voice. He looked at her in the other room. "All you have to do is tell the truth."

"I assure you that whatever you say, I will believe you." Mister Nelson gave Jack another smile.

Jack must have been really focused on the man in front of him, because he didn't hear the door opening. He noticed that there is a another person in the office, when he heard them saying:

"And I will believe you too."

A young man entered office. He was tall, and slender, and had a dark hair. He was wearing a suit, and shades, and holding the white cane. He smiled, and his smile was like a little ray of sunshine, radiating with optimism and confidence. His whole presence was that – a confidence.

Jack was observing as the young man came in. The boxer slowly stood up, still watching him. He almost couldn't believe his own eyes, even though, he knew it was true. Matty, it was Matty. This tall, handsome man was once this kid, who was stitching his forehead, cheering him during a fight, living with him and giving him reason to go on.

Jack wanted to hug him, to hold him, to tell him that he's dad, he's proud of him and he loves him. He felt how his heart starts to beat faster, as this man – his little Matty – extended his hand towards him in greeting gesture. Hesitantly the boxer raised his hand, but he stopped in the midway and quickly ran to the exit.

"Is something wrong, mister Battle?" Mister Nelson called after him, some kind of coldness in his voice.

Holding to the doorknob, Jack gave all three of them one last glance.

"I'm sorry, I've wasted your time." He said, trying to make his voice sound more baritone.

He left the office and quickly ran outside. He was running for some time, until he got to some bench. He sat there and started to cry.

 **The next chapter will be from Matt's perspective. Probably.**


	3. Part 3

**I know, I've promised you a chapter from Matt's perspective, but this one will have mixed perspectives. Generally we won't be focusing just on Jack's point of view.**

 **Also - behold my crappy fighting scenes!**

 **Part 3**

While opening the entrance to the block where "Nelson and Murdock" was placed, Matt heard the talking. The one doing the talking was mainly Foggy, but Matt suspected that his partner was trying to convince someone to become their client.

"And I tell you, whoever will be representing your opponents, Murdock will eat them for breakfast, while Nelson will eat them for dessert."

"Aren't you going too far with those metaphors, Foggy?"

"I'm only telling the truth."

Matt chuckled soundlessly and directed towards the office. When he got to the door, he heard Foggy asking some mister Battle what was the case he came with. Funny, wasn't the case the first thing discussed, when someone wanted to hire an attorney? Then again, some people were just afraid to talk about what brought them to Matt and Foggy's law firm… at first.

So probably that was the reason behind the client's silence. Matt was standing behind the door and listening, waiting for mister Battle to explain his case. He could hear the man's nervous heartbeat.

"Mister Battle, don't worry. All you have to do is tell the truth."

"I assure you that whatever you say, I will believe you."

Still no answer from mister Battle. Only the heartbeat. Matt decided that it was the right moment to intervene. And so, he slowly opened the door and entered the office.

"And I will believe you too." He said, turning his head towards the room on the left, where he located mister Battle's heat and smell.

Matt smiled lightly, hoping that it will help their client loosen up a bit. He came in to Foggy's office, hearing the mysterious man standing up; and feeling said man's gaze on himself.

And then he noticed. The first sign that something is wrong. Mister Battle's heart started to beat faster few seconds after Matt stopped in front of him and extended his hand to greet him.

Another sign was an odd smell, emitting from their soon-to-be client. A mixture of few familiar scents – holy water (mister Battle was probably recently in church), dirt (he was lying on the asphalt… and near the dumpster), coffee (Karen probably made one for him)… and something else. Something that Matt didn't smell in years. And it made him feel uncomfortable, due to memories it brought to his mind.

He could feel mister Battle's hand going up to shook Matt's, slowly, with hesitation… but somewhere in the midway it stopped and the man abruptly passed Matt, directing towards the exit.

"Is something wrong, mister Battle?" Foggy didn't even try to hide the indignation in his voice.

Matt felt mister Battle stopping at the door and turning to all three workers of "Nelson and Murdock". And then they heard Battle's fake, lowered voice telling them: "I'm sorry, I've wasted your time."

The man left. For couple of seconds Matt was listening to his running footsteps, first in the corridor, then on the street, before Foggy broke the silence.

"Man, what a dick."

"Yeah, what was his problem?" Karen joined in.

Matt knew how Foggy interpreted mister Battle's sudden escape. And, really, the way it looked to his business partner, it was highly possible interpretation. During their long friendship, Foggy had seen various reactions on Matt's blindness, and some of them was really pissing him off. What happened here, could be easily categorized as "I don't want to be represented by a cripple." But after reading the signs, Matt was able to see there was more to mister Battle, then Foggy and Karen realized.

"I don't think that he ran away because I'm blind." Matt said.

He felt their gazes on him.

"Well then, why do you think he ran away?" Foggy asked.

Matt wished to tell him what he deduced, but he had to get into details and he didn't want to expose his supersenses to Karen. So he just said:

"I've got the impression that he knows me."

* * *

Sitting and weeping on the bench, Jack was thinking about the lost time. He was recalling a little boy greeting him in the kitchen, before coming back to his homework. He was recalling a little boy sitting in the gym, waiting for his father to finish his training. He was recalling a little boy teasing him in playful manner. He was recalling all those times – before and after the accident – when his son was brightening his day.

 _You've died that night, Jack. You've been dead for almost twenty years._

He could still see this child. This cute, smart as hell, child, who was seeing him at his worst. Matt had seen his father bruised, swollen and bloodied. Even after the accident Jack let him know what happened to his face on the ring. Matt was sad about it, but Jack always was getting the impression that his boy tried to lift him up. There was so much optimism in this one kid.

When Jack entered "Nelson and Murdock"; when he was listening to mister Nelson's description of his son, he didn't suspect how it will be like to finally see him. He didn't suspect that seeing Matt after twenty years of sleep will make him want to flee as far as possible from his child. He still felt the emotional turmoil – shame, sadness, fear mixed with not enough happiness to overweight the panic. And it made him so useless and hopeless, and…

Someone sat next to him on the bench. At first Jack didn't care, but then he heard a familiar voice:

"I guess, it didn't go very well."

The boxer turned to father Lantom, who seemed to be calm, if not a bit disappointed. He gave the priest one tired glance, before gazing at the space in front of them.

"Don't worry, father." Jack said. "I haven't even spoken with Matty."

He explained shortly what happened at "Nelson and Murdock". As always, father Lantom proved himself to be a good listener. The further Jack was going with his story, the more his voice started to shake, and in the end he found himself crying again.

"How can I come to him and just say: 'Hi, Matty, it's dad'? How can I even _look_ into Matt's eyes? Me coming back… it would turn his life upside down."

"Yes, it would." Father Lantom nodded and looked at Jack. "But at some point he will have to find out."

"I thought you want me to not show myself. Especially not to Matty."

"I'm not saying you should do it right now. I'm saying you will have to do it eventually. When everything will be certain and you won't have to hide anymore."

"Are you sure, father? Because I think it would be better for Matty, if I just go away."

"I don't know how or why you've been brought back to life, Jack, but I do know that there is a purpose for it. Maybe it has something to do with Matthew."

Jack turned to the priest slowly, looking at him with astonishment, but father Lantom gave him one quick glance and added:

"Besides, he'll be happy to have his father back. Of that I'm sure."

For a moment Jack was contemplating father Lantom's words. He imagined revealing himself to Matt. At first there would be probably astonishment and even disbelief, but then, when Matty finally would ran his fingers through Jack's face and realize who's standing in front of him, he would be happy…

However, suddenly Jack's imagination gave him another image. An image of Matt getting angry with his father – for getting himself killed, for not being there for him, for abandoning him for twenty years and for coming back now, like nothing happened.

"I don't deserve to be back in his life, father." Jack whispered.

"There are bad fathers in this world, who don't deserve their children, Jack. It's time for you to understand that you're not one of them. Now, come on." He tapped boxer's knee and stood up. "We have to find you some clothes."

Silently Jack followed the priest to the parish. There they've eat lunch and browsed through donated clothes. Father Lantom told Jack that for now he could stay in the parish, until they would figure something out. But he also told the boxer that he couldn't go anywhere without getting him know first. Even though, Jack agreed to it, he felt an urge to go on a walk through Hell's Kitchen.

* * *

"Jack Battle." Matt repeated man's name, when Karen and Foggy told him about Jack's visit. "No, I don't recall someone called that."

Of course, it was only partially true, considering the fact that his stupid brain was bringing up certain boxer in his family. After all, that boxer's name was Jack, and his stage name was Battlin'. Matt didn't want to think about it. Not now, not in front of Foggy and Karen. Besides, it was dumb to think that… because how?

"Are you okay, Matt?" Karen's concerned voice brought him back to reality.

"Yes, yes, I just… drifted away." He said and regained his composure. "It's obviously a fake name. He came here, told you that he needs legal help… but left when he saw me. He even tried to modulate his voice so I won't recognize him. But what was his purpose?"

"Come to think of it," Foggy began. "he asked me about you. You know, what kind of person you're like."

"And what you've told him?" Matt smiled.

"I've told him the truth. That you're a little shit." Foggy joked, making Matt chuckle, but then he got serious. "But he asked me about you, when I tried to know, with what case he came to us. Later, when I asked about it again, he didn't respond. But then again, you've come in and he ran away."

"How did he look like?" Matt inquired.

He heard Foggy's chair cracking, meaning that his friend leaned more comfortably on it, probably even looked at the ceiling to concentrate better.

"Well," He started. "he was kinda bulky. Not MMA kind of bulky, but quite muscular. Then again, it could be an optical illusion caused by his tight t-shirt."

"Yes, yes, but what about his face?" Matt asked further.

A moment of silence. Foggy had to think about the answer.

"He was… Well, I guess he looked like a regular guy. He had a short dark hair, and stubble, and… blue eyes, maybe?"

This description didn't give Matt much. Maybe later Foggy or Karen will remember more details about their guest.

"Why he came here?" Matt asked no one in particular. "What he was looking for?"

There was a moment of silence. Neither one of them knew what to say. Neither one of them had any theory as to why mysterious Jack Battle came to "Nelson and Murdock". So they decided to finally abandon the subject and take care of their finances, at least for now. But Matt couldn't stop thinking about the whole case, and he was going to investigate it further.

* * *

Jack waited really long for father Lantom to fall asleep. He almost felt bad for leaving him the second time this day, but he knew that the priest would never let him out for this walk down the Memory Lane. He promised himself that it will take him only an hour and later he will come back here and spend the rest of the night in his temporary bed.

So he took the hoodie to protect himself from both cold and people who could recognize him. It was really lame protection, he had to admit it, but he didn't have better ideas.

While walking on the streets, he was surprised to find out that some of businesses, he knew before his long sleep, didn't exist anymore. He also hardly recognized places, he was passing. Some buildings were complete ruins and it wasn't due to passing time. They looked more like they were bombarded or something.

But the gym looked the way he remembered. Well, maybe except some new posters, but other than that – it was still familiar place. He was watching it from the distance, recalling again the images from – supposedly – the night twenty years ago that seemed to happen yesterday.

 _In the red corner, weighting 164 pounds, from Hell's Kitchen, New York, please, welcome, Battlin' Jack Murdock!_

He could feel every punch of Creel. He could feel his hands hitting Creel's body. He could feel the sweat, pain and exhaustion during the most fierce fight of his life. This was the fight he was going to win. So much depended on this one fight – the future of Matty, Jack's reputation and whenever his son will be proud of him or not. The knowledge that he might die, because he pissed off some powerful people, only made him more determined to win. He will die, but his son will have a better life.

He also remembered how in hurry he was to come back home… But he didn't come back home. Not that night. He didn't meet his son in their flat and didn't celebrate this victory with him. Now, it was too late to come back.

Jack clenched his fists. He was tempted to come in to this gym. To hit this old bag, maybe even fight with some rookie. To release all those emotions inside him. But he was just standing there, thinking, remembering, until he finally decided that he should come back to parish.

He started to walk in direction of church. He didn't make it far, before he heard the sound of commotion in the nearest back alley. The reasonable part of his brain wanted him to just go away and forget about this (after all, it could be some gangs fighting with each other), but his other, more crazy and curious part, wanted him to give it a short glance. He decided to listen to his reasonable part and quickly leave, before the gang will notice him or some lost bullet will pierce through his skull, but passing the alley, he couldn't help himself and looked there in the corner of his eyes.

What he saw, made him stop and stare at the scene playing there.

Some odd figure was fighting with the thugs, kicking, punching, doing flips and dodging every hit directed at him. The figure was wearing dark clothes with mask and little, visible only after further investigation, horns. At first Jack thought that the clothes were black, but the light from the lantern made him realize it was actually a cherry red with only few black regions. The man in red was fast, strong and formidable with his attacks. His weapon of choice were two sticks, but his skill was enough to disarm thugs. Soon the stranger managed to take care of his opponents, but got himself nosebleed and a cut on the lower lip.

Jack was observing everything with astonishment. This man seemed to be unstoppable and there was so much fury and determination in his movements. His attire made him look intimidating. Who was this guy? What he was doing there, in the middle of the night, beating up gangsters in back alleys?

And when everything was over, when all the bad guys were lying around, moaning with pain or unconscious, the man in red turned his eyes on Jack. The boxer felt rush of adrenaline, as he was standing there, facing the man in red and waiting for his move. To his surprise, the stranger jumped on the nearby fire escape and started to climb up and up, until he disappeared on the roof. Jack managed to see a small figure taking leap of faith from one building to another.

He shook his head and quickly started to ran towards the church. After what he just witnessed, he wasn't going to sleep. This crazy day couldn't end any crazier.

Little did Jack Murdock know that he was trailed by the same red figure, he saw only few second earlier. Daredevil was listening to the boxers heartbeat, following his unique scent and moving from one roof to another, always far enough to not be spotted. Once Jack reached the parish, Matt made a mental note to visit father Lantom and ask him about mysterious mister Battle. The Devil of the Hell's Kitchen was only wondering what mister Battle was doing near the gym and whenever he was going to come back there.


	4. Part 4

**I know, I'm updating like crazy, but this chapter is a slower one. I also want to write some crack involving father Lantom XD.**

 **I have a quick question for you, my faithfull readers: What do you think brought back Jack to life?**

 **Part 4**

Father Lantom was used to waking up early in the morning. There was always so much to do on the parish and the priest liked to pray in isolation. The mornings were always quiet and peaceful and in this silence father Lantom could easily organize his thoughts, especially after he found out about Matthew's secret and was frequently listening to his confessions.

Now he had another Murdock on his head, and Jack was even weirder case than Matthew. Father Lantom was wondering whenever the man that was sleeping in his parish, was really Jack Murdock, or if he was some kind of impostor. The priest actually didn't know if he wanted him to be Matthew's father, or someone just looking like him. Yes, the thought that Matthew will have his father back was wonderful, but on the other hand – what brought Jack to life couldn't be necessarily the force of good.

That's why father Lantom insisted on not showing to Matthew just yet. The priest needed data, he needed to know whenever he had here a case of miraculous resurrection or devil's trick. So he made few phone calls, asked some questions and even arranged a meeting with his old friend from university. He was going to get to the bottom of this case, before two Murdocks will finally see each other (in the broadest meaning of this word).

Someone entered the church. Judging by the sound of tapping, it was Matthew.

The young man made a sign of cross and slowly approached father Lantom. However, he didn't sit next to the priest, but on the bench behind him. Father Lantom knew that Matthew didn't want to disturb his prayers, so he just waited for him to finish, at the same time saying a prayer himself. So they were sitting there in the silence, until father Lantom made the sign of cross and turned to Matt. That's when he saw a cut on lawyer's lip and a big bruise under his left eye, but – considering all the other injuries he saw on Matt's face after every night as a vigilante – it wasn't surprising for him at all.

"Good morning, Matthew." He said.

"I hope, I'm not disturbing you in any way, father." Matt smiled.

"Oh, no. Not at all." Was father Lantom's response. "How can I help you?"

"Something weird happened to me yesterday. I thought it would be better to share it with you, father."

The priest tried to act casually and not let his heartbeat betray his nervousness. It would probably be of no use against Matthew's supersenses, but it wasn't like father Lantom was going to lie to him anyway.

"So what actually happened?" He asked, smiling lightly, even though Matthew wouldn't see it.

"We've had a guest in 'Nelson and Murdock'. A man named Jack Battle. He said he need a legal help, so Foggy invited him and asked few questions. But instead of telling him about the case, mister Battle was inquiring him about me. Foggy says that mister Battle wanted to know what kind of person I am. Karen, on the other hand, said that he looked nervous and confused. And when I entered the office, his heart started to beat faster. Then he basically ran away, apologizing for wasting our time. Weird, isn't it?"

"Yes, this is very peculiar." Was priest's answer. "What do think about it, Matthew?"

"I think that mister Battle, whoever he was, knew me, in some way at least. And he suspected that I knew him too and decided to flee before I will recognize him."

Father Lantom felt how his hands started to sweat. He wondered how long it will take to Matthew to notice it. Probably he already knew.

"I suppose that's true. Do you have any idea who he was and what he wanted?"

"Not yet, but I will find out eventually." Matt replied and leaned a bit towards the priest. "There is, however, a way to find out faster. I can ask _you_ , father."

Father Lantom only smiled to his thoughts. Well, he could suspect that Matthew will try to follow Jack and that Jack will lead him here. Especially since the boxer decided to go out late at night and returned an hour later, still thinking that father Lantom was sleeping and didn't notice his leaving.

"He's here, right, father?" Matt asked.

"Yes, he is." Father Lantom admitted. "And, indeed, it's a person you might recognize, Matthew."

"I'm glad, you chose honesty, father."

"Even if I would want to lie to you, Matthew, there is no use. You've told me numerous times about all those criminals unsuccessfully lying to you."

Matt's face became serious, as he realized something.

"I assure you, father, that even if you chose not to tell me the truth, I would never…"

"I know, Matthew, and I wasn't suggesting it." The priest cut in.

There was a moment of silence. This time Matt was the one, who was nervous. Father Lantom witnessed this nervousness many times during their conversations. For a man who was dressing as the devil every night and fighting with thugs, he was full of self-doubts.

"Can you give me his real name, then?" He said finally.

"No, I can't. He has to reveal himself to you on his own." Father Lantom explained. "But I will say this, Matthew: as far as I know, he doesn't wish you any harm."

"If you say so, father…" Matthew for a moment was silent, probably contemplating something. He spoke again a couple of seconds later: "Why is he hiding? He did something bad? He angered powerful people?"

"No…" Father Lantom shook his head, but then added: "Well, yes, but it was long time ago." He cleared his throat and gazed at his guest. "Look, it's a very delicate situation. I have to figure it myself, so for now, leave mister Battle alone. Promise me this, Matthew."

There was a moment of silence. Matt was probably contemplating whenever he should make that promise or not. Father Lantom could see that he was tempted to go after Jack, either way, but he felt like refusing priest's ask wasn't exactly an option. Finally Matthew lifted his head and said:

"I promise."

"Now," Father Lantom smiled. "you look like you've had a rough night. Confession?"

Matthew smiled too and nodded.

"Confession."

And so they entered the confessional and for the next five minutes father Lantom was listening what Matt did this time.

When they finished, the lawyer left for the work, while the priest entered the sacristy. To his surprise, he found there Jack. He looked perplexed and even a bit angry.

"Good morning, Jack." Said father Lantom and directed towards the desk. "Were you sleeping well?"

"Who did this to him?" Boxer's voice was quiet, almost cold.

It took the priest few seconds, before he realized what Jack was talking about. He gave Matthew's father a stern look.

"You were watching us?"

"Yes, I did. Now, answer the question." He replied harshly.

"Did you hear our conversation?" Father Lantom, on the other hand, was still calm.

Jack gave a heavy sigh, probably calming himself down a bit, and answered the question:

"No, I didn't hear it. You were too quiet."

Father Lantom was observing him for a moment. In times like these, he wished to have Matthew with himself to determine whenever somebody was lying or telling the truth.

The boxer's eyes became sorrowful and he asked once again:

"Who did this to him, father? Who beaten him up?"

Father Lantom didn't respond. It wasn't that he didn't understand how Jack felt seeing Matthew's black eye. Even if he knew the names of people Matthew was fighting with, he couldn't reveal them to Jack, due to secret of confession. But his silence only made Jack angry.

"For God's sake, he's blind! What kind of bastard beats up a blind man?!"

"First of, Jack," The priest began, calm as always. "you're in God's house, so don't scream like a maniac. Secondly, watch your language. And thirdly…"

Suddenly he found himself without words. What exactly he should tell a worried father, who just saw his wounded son? "They probably didn't know, he was blind"? "They were in worse shape than Matthew"? "Don't worry! In the end a nice nurse is always patching him up"? There were so many reasons as to why Jack shouldn't know about Matthew's night activities.

"Is this that big secret, you were hiding behind me earlier?" Jack asked. "Someone is beating up Matty?"

Father Lantom gave a sigh.

"I wish I could tell you, Jack, I really do… but it's really not my secret to reveal. The only person, who has a right to do it, is Matthew."

Jack's eyes became fierce, but then his expression changed to more sad. He sighed and sat on the chair next to desk. He looked down and was staring at the floor, probably thinking about what he just heard.

"I guess, you're right, father."

"I know that you're worried, Jack. I'm worried about him too. Constantly."

Another moment of silence and then the boxer once again raised his gaze at father Lantom.

"By the way, did you know that some nutcase in red outfit is running around, attacking people?"

So he really was out last night. And he even saw Daredevil in action. Why all Murdocks had to be so reckless?

"You really shouldn't go out, Jack. Your killers can find you and finish the work." Was all father Lantom replied. "And you've being brought back to life yesterday."

"Who is this guy?" Jack inquired further. "He had horns on his cap and all…"

"He's…" Father Lantom started. He was going to say: 'He's trying to do good', but there was a small possibility that – after the conversation they just had – Jack will make the connection between Matthew's wounds and Devil of Hell's Kitchen beating people up. "He's Daredevil." The priest finally replied.

"Daredevil?" The boxer raised his eyebrows.

"That's how press is calling him. Now," Father Lantom decided to change the subject. "how about we eat some breakfast?"

A bit hesitantly, but Jack agreed on the proposal and followed the priest to the parish.

It was a really quiet breakfast. The boxer was silently drinking coffee and eating beacon with eggs father Lantom's hostess made for them, and spoke only to ask for salt. It was easy to notice that his mind was preoccupied by something. Maybe it were Matthew's bruises and the secret behind them, maybe the mysterious Daredevil, or maybe this whole situation he was in – about the fact that he didn't know how he got here, but he wanted to meet with his adult son so much… Yet he felt like he didn't deserve it.

Father Lantom put down his coffee and turned to Jack:

"I will try to find something about your current predicament, but I will have to leave you here. This time you _can't_ go out, Jack. Do you understand?"

"Of course. I understood it the first time you've told me."

"Yet you left yesterday to visit Matthew, and again, at night, to go on a walk. This time I want you to promise me that you won't go out."

"Father…" Jack began, but the priest harshly cut in:

"Promise me, Jack!"

That rendered the boxer speechless. For a long moment Jack was observing his host with the expression of helplessness. He leaned on the backrest and gave a heavy sigh.

"I promise."

Father Lantom looked at him. One promise from father and one from son. It had to be enough. After all, the word of Daredevil and Battlin' Jack Murdock should mean something.

* * *

Father Lantom gave Jack list of things to do, just so the boxer wouldn't get bored on the parish. For the most part of the morning and early afternoon, Jack was working as a gardener, mechanic and plumber. At the same time his mind was occupied by thoughts about Matty's earlier visit. Partly because it was the second time when Jack saw his adult son, and partly because Matt was wounded. The boxer could still see this big black bruise under Matt's left eye.

As a child, Matt was sometimes getting into fights. Boys are always fighting, either in playful manner with friends, or because the other boy provoked them. Sometimes the fight was… one-sided, with one kid being beaten up by other, bigger kid. In case of Matty… well, he was fighting because other children were making fun of his old man. When Jack found out about it the first time, initially there was some part of him, who considered it cute. But then he started to think deeper about the fact that his son got bruises, scratches and cuts because he was fighting with someone bigger and stronger than him. And, hey, Murdocks never give up and his dad is a boxer, right?

And Jack was hit with a horrible realization – Matt was dangerously close to become just like him. He will start from picking up fights, then he will be skipping classes, gambling and even drinking. And he will end up like his old man – without education, perspectives and self-respect. Jack could handle humiliation – the fact that some parents were considering him a failure and passing this view on their children. That he could handle. But the vision of his son becoming that failure too, was breaking his heart.

If Matty was going to be someone better than his father, he had to stop fighting and start to learn. From now on, the one doing fighting was Jack, while Matt's duty was to make his homework on time and read books. Showing his swollen and bloodied face was another way Jack would teach his child about the superiority of brain over brawn. But soon he realized that Matt started to call other boxers weaklings and it wasn't good either. He didn't want his son to treat other people like someone on lower level than him. And so Jack was teaching the kid about the importance of respect. Because if someone was brave and tough enough to stand on the ring and fight good fight, they were worth respect, and Jack wanted Matt to understand that. He was sometimes amazed by himself, because how much he respected his opponents while at the same time despising himself.

But other kids picking on Matt was still happening. School bullies thought that beating up the son of a loser boxer, Battlin' Jack Murdock, was justified, especially since he was becoming a bigger and bigger nerd. Jack lost count on how many times he was trying to talk some sense into bullies' fathers.

And the picking on Matt didn't stop after the accident. Of course, some bullies were decent enough to leave a blind kid alone, but in every school there are bastards that have no shame or sensitivity whatsoever. Matt was falling victim of distasteful pranks like hiding Braille books or cane being taken away from him. The things his son had to put through in school forced Jack look for help in various places. Soon teachers' intervention made Matt's school experience a bit more bearable.

Other than mister Nelson and miss Page being Matty's friends, Jack had no idea how his son's interactions with his peers looked like after boxer's supposed death. He thought, for the most part, that during college Matt was more open for new company. Besides, children could be cruel to disabled persons, they didn't know any better, but the older people were getting, the more they understood that teasing and beating blind people was just wrong and nobody should do that. He actually believed that his son's adult years were free from prejudice.

But this black eye proved Jack wrong. He didn't have to look for other explanation, he _knew_ it was made by someone's punch. Some bastard thought that hitting a blind man was okay. Some bastard hurt his sweet, gentle Matty, who probably didn't know how to block the incoming punch. He was just a blind, defenseless man. How could anybody thought beating him up was even remotely okay?!

The more Jack was thinking about it, the more his blood was boiling and the harder focusing on his work was getting. How could he stay here, in the parish, when somebody hurt his child? He wanted to track down those bastards. No matter how many of them there was, he wanted to break their bones, so Matty would be safe. It was his duty as a father to protect his son.

But he didn't know where to start. Who should he ask or what should he do? Moreover – he didn't know if his actions will be effective.

Still – sometimes he was thinking better when he was hitting the punching bag. He was letting go of emotions piling inside of him and then his thoughts were floating in his head, giving him ideas and solutions.

The parish was too peaceful for his liking. Jack had to go to the gym.


	5. Part 5

**Before we start I have an anouncement. I've managed contact with staff and add new characters:**

 **\- Father Lantom**  
 **\- Stick**  
 **\- Madam Gao**  
 **\- Nabu**  
 **\- Leland Owlsey**  
 **\- Brett Mahoney**  
 **\- Bess Mahoney**  
 **\- Corrupted cops Blake and** **Carl**  
 **\- Marci Stahl**  
 **\- Melvin Potter**

 **Now, onto the story - I was going to end it with certain cloffhanger, but I decided that I didn't do a proper build up to it. So this ciffhanger will be probably at the end of the next chapter.**

 **Also - this is Foggy Nelson's shinning moment in this fic XD.**

 **Part 5**

"So you're not gonna look for him?" Foggy said through the phone, walking down the street.

" _I've promised this to father Lantom._ " Was Matt's response.

"Right, and there is a special circle of Hell reserved for people, who break promises to their priests."

" _That too._ " Foggy could imagine Matt smiling, while saying those words. " _But I guess there is a reason mister Battle doesn't want me to recognize him just yet._ "

"Let's resume what we know about him, shall we? Some guy comes to our office under false pretences, asks what kind of guy you are and runs away as he sees you. According to father Lantom, he knows you and wish you no harm, yet he apparently did something in the past, so now he's hiding on the parish like a medieval criminal. You've also trailed him out on the streets, hanging around your gym. Call me crazy, but I have a bad feelings about it."

" _Yeah, you're might be right._ "

Foggy smiled.

"I'm glad you agree. So what do you say? We use this wonderful loophole of me not promising anything to father Lantom, and I will do some investigation on mister Battle? I'm in the mood for some Sherlock Holmes action."

" _Thanks for the offer, but no._ " Matt chuckled. " _Let's respect his right to privacy. At least for now._ "

"As you wish, but I don't call me, when you get stabbed in the dark alley."

" _Did I ever?_ "

This time it was Foggy who chuckled. Then he realized that he was now in the place of his destination.

"Okay, I have to finish. Bye, Matt."

" _Bye, Fog._ " Was the other man's response.

They disconnected and Foggy entered the building before him. The gym where Matt was releasing his anger and where his father used to train, wasn't very crowded at this time of the day. Some dude was hitting the punching bag, while the other was holding it still for him, and two guys were doing sparring on the ring. There were times when Foggy was considering going here with Matt and work on his condition, but later he decided that he was happy with his non-violent, exercise-free life. This time he came here, not to work on his muscles, nor to accompany Matt, but to check something.

"Ah, mister Nelson!" The owner of the gym approached the lawyer. "So you finally decided to let go of some steam?"

"No, actually I have a few questions." Foggy smiled.

The man raised his eyebrows.

"Questions? Well, then, let's come to my office."

And he led Foggy to the small room filled with old posters and smelling like a school PE closet. There he sat comfortably at the desk and looked at the lawyer.

"So, mister Nelson, what it is that you want to ask?"

Foggy sat on the chair, straightened himself, cleared his throat and gazed at the gym owner.

"Do you know all the boxers, who ever came here?"

"Well… not all, but most of them."

Foggy tilted his head.

"How about a man named Jack Battle? Did he ever attend to that gym?"

"Jack Battle, you say?" The owner frowned, but then shook his head. "No, I don't recall anyone like that. However," He raised his finger and leaned towards Foggy. "there was a boxer, who's stage name was Battlin' Jack Murdock."

"Matt's dad." Foggy replied.

Come to think of it, Matt mentioned once or twice his father's stage name. And when Foggy was remembering his last encounter with Jack Battle, the man did look like someone muscular.

Foggy looked at the owner.

"But Jack Murdock died."

"Yes, he was shot. To this day nobody knows who exactly did it, but it must have been someone, who betted for Creel." He smiled. "Man, this fight was glorious. Jack wasn't much of a winner, but when he did won, especially with this kind of opponent, you could realize how badass he was. You know, he loved his son very much and he was willing to put himself through all those shit, just to provide for the kid."

"I know." Foggy couldn't help but smile at the thought of Matt remembering fondly his old man.

"Wait, I think I still have the poster with him." Nelson's interlocutor opened a cupboard in his desk, then drew out couple of posters and started to browse through them.

"No, you don't have to do this." Foggy almost stood up, but the man stopped him with a hand gesture.

"Oh, but I want. I hardly have an opportunity to show them to people. Oh," He smiled, putting up one of the posters. "here it is." He gazed at Foggy and gave him the placard. "Take a look at this."

Foggy took the poster from him and looked at the image. It showed a picture of man with fists raised to fight and a piercing, blue eyes. Above him was sign: "Battlin'", while on the bottom: "Jack Murdock". Foggy was observing the man's face and couldn't believe what he was seeing. The resemblance was striking. Everything was falling into its place… but as much as it was making sense, the overall implication seemed to be impossible.

Foggy gazed at the owner.

"Thank you for your time."

He shook the other man's hand and left the gym. The next thing, he did, was calling Matt once again. He had to wait a couple of seconds, but his partner finally picked up. Foggy didn't bother with the "hello". He jumped right into the point:

"Matt, I know who Jack Battle really is."

" _Really?_ " Matt asked.

"You probably won't believe me, but…"

" _Foggy, stop right there._ " Matt cut in. " _I don't want to know. Not yet._ "

"But, dude, it's important."

" _I. Don't want to. Know._ " Murdock's voice became harsher. " _Do you understand, Foggy? Don't you dare reveal his real name, until he himself won't do it._ "

Foggy sighed. Of course, he understood. Of course, he was going to do as Matt have told him. But this was a big secret. As big as Matt being Daredevil, maybe even bigger. Well, Nelson managed to keep one secret, he could as well keep another one… however, it didn't mean he was going to just sit there and do nothing.

* * *

"Foggy, what a surprise! What brings you here?" Was father Lantom's reaction to lawyer's arrival. It so happened that the priest was returning to the church too and they've met at the entrance. The moment when he saw Foggy's serious expression, he stopped smiling and got worried. "Did something happened?"

"I have to speak with mister Battle." Matt's partner said with grave seriousness.

"Is something wrong?" The priest asked.

Foggy didn't want to play this game, but at the same time he knew, he had to be discreet. So he just leaned towards father Lantom and whispered:

"I know, who he is."

The priest just grabbed the other's man arm and pulled him towards the parish.

"Come with me. Let's talk about it in private."

He settled Foggy at the kitchen table and sat in front of him.

"So," He began. "who do you think is Jack Battle?"

Foggy suddenly got nervous. Come to think of it, he chose his previous words poorly, considering the situation. So he rephrased them:

"I'm not sure who he is, father, but he looks like Matt's dad, Jack Murdock. But it's impossible, because he's supposed to be dead for twenty years. Tell me, father, what do you think about it?"

A moment of silence. Father Lantom gave Foggy a long look of man, who was thinking about something deeper. Suddenly the priest straightened himself on his seat and asked:

"Did you tell Matthew about your suspicions?"

"I've tried, but he didn't want to listen. He wanted for mister Bat… I mean, his dad… to reveal himself in his own time. I respect that, but I need to speak with Jack Murdock."

"Why?"

"I want to know what happened and convince him to meet with Matt."

"I-I don't think it's a good idea, mister Nelson."

Foggy and father Lantom looked at the doorframe. Jack Murdock entered the kitchen, but before he sat at the table, he gave the priest a meaningful look. For a moment father Lantom was just staring at him, eyes serious, like he was exchanging mind dialogue with Jack. And then he turned to Foggy.

"I hope you both realize what are you doing."

At first Foggy thought the priest will leave them alone, but he stayed on his chair, probably to prevent Foggy and Jack from saying or doing something stupid. Either way, the boxer sat next to him and he looked at Foggy. And then for the second time he explained to someone what happened to him, when he had woken up. The more Matt's best friend was listening, the less he knew what to think. Well, not long time ago New York has been attacked by aliens; the ones who stood against them were a millionaire in robot suit, a guy with a bow and arrow, a God of Thunder and a man, who supposedly was dead for seventy years. Maybe with Jack it was something similar… somehow, someway he was preserved in current form, just like Captain America. Then again – Matt found his father's body and he was sure he was dead, just like the cops and everyone else. It was also possible that the man in front of Foggy wasn't Jack Murdock at all.

Jack ended his tale and waited. Foggy was observing him in silence for a moment. He could see the nervousness on boxer's face.

"You know…" Foggy started and quickly realized that Jack tensed. The lawyer smiled. "Matt was telling me about you."

"Really?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." Foggy nodded, still smiling. "For example, he told me that you gave him a sip of whisky, when he was nine, because you were celebrating your victory on the ring."

An expression of shock appeared on father Lantom's face. He turned to the boxer.

"Jack, is it true?! You gave an alcohol to nine-year-old?"

Jack seemed to be stoic, but he gave Foggy a serious look.

"Yes, I did. But you're mistaken, mister Nelson. It wasn't because we were celebrating anything. I gave him a taste of whisky so his hands wouldn't be shaking, when he was stitching up my forehead."

Foggy smiled even wider, hearing this answer. That was what Matt had told him that night on the stairs. Foggy could test Jack further, but he was already convinced. It seemed that it really _was_ Battlin' Jack Murdock in front of him. But lawyer's expression quickly changed into more concerned. Now, what he was going to do with this? Well, he sort of came here to convince Jack to meet with his son.

"It's still a very reckless thing to do, Jack." Father Lantom responded to Jack's statement. "I hope you didn't repeat it in anyway."

"Of course not!" Was boxer's reply.

Foggy decided to cut in, before this conversation will go right of the rails.

"Do you know what Matt says about you?" He asked, forcing Jack to look at him. He smiled fondly and added: "You've asked me what kind of person he is. Maybe you would like to know what kind of person he thinks you were?"

Jack didn't respond at first. He just dropped his gaze and for a moment was observing the table, before he finally looked at Foggy with expression of sadness.

"It doesn't matter now, mister Nelson. I know I wasn't a very good father."

"Oh, really? It's funny, you're saying that, mister Murdock," Foggy said, straightening himself in the chair. "because I didn't get that impression from any of Matt's stories. What I did get was the image of a hardworking man, doing everything to provide for his family. A strong, tough man, who was standing on his two feet, even when he was losing on the ring. A man, who was teaching his son that he should use his head, not his fists. When Matt was talking about you, mister Murdock, I was always getting the feeling that he's very proud of you."

"It's true. I've got that feeling too." Father Lantom added.

Jack didn't say anything. His expression was sad. In fact, Foggy got the impression that the boxer had hard time believing in what he just heard. He looked at lawyer and finally spoke:

"Did you see him today, mister Nelson?"

Foggy was a bit surprised with this sudden change of the subject, but he replied:

"No, not yet. We were only talking through the phone."

"I did. From the distance, of course." The boxer said and went straight to the point: "He had black eye and probably even cut lip."

"Oh…" Was all Foggy could say and he looked down.

"You don't seem very surprised, so I assume it's not the first time. So tell me, mister Nelson," Jack leaned towards Foggy. "is someone beating up my Matty?"

For the first few seconds Foggy was silent. What should he say? "Hey, mister Murdock, your son, who you were teaching to use his head, is spending his nights wearing the devil costume and beating the crap out of thugs. Now it's better than earlier, really, he has protective suit and before that he was constantly falling right into the dumpster. Yeah, totally, your blind son is a lawyer by day and a freaking vigilante by night. Nice career choice, am I right?"

"Why are you silent, mister Nelson?" Jack asked, an uneasiness clear in his voice.

Foggy looked at him.

"I know how it looks like. And believe me, for a long time I thought he's clumsy, because he was telling me, he bumped into wall or something. Yeah, I'm stupid, I know…"

"Mister Nelson, do you or do you not know who hurt Matt?!" Jack cut in harshly. For a moment the lawyer was speechless, but then he just said:

"No, no, I don't."

"So you don't know what is exactly happening?" Jack raised his eyebrows and gazed at Foggy meaningfully.

Foggy looked at father Lantom, searching for any kind of advice. At this point, he was tempted to tell Jack about his son's night activities. Really, the guy deserved to know this, if he was worried so much about Matt's health. He deserved to know that Matt wasn't just a helpless blind man and could kick some serious ass.

Alas, father Lantom shook his head, meaning that Foggy couldn't reveal his friend's secret. Foggy sighed heavily. Well, it wasn't like he would tell Jack anyway. After all, it was Matt's secret and all… So the lawyer just turned to Jack and said:

"Look, mister Murdock, it's not my secret to tell, but I do say this: Matt is stronger than you suspect. It's one of few things he got after you, sir." Speaking the last sentence, he smiled.

But it seemed that Jack wasn't convinced. He raised from his seat and gave Foggy a look that made the man feel guilty and a bit disturbed.

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave you, mister Nelson. I have a work to do."

First time Jack Murdock left, when father Lantom was too distracted to see him leave. Second time the boxer basically ran away. This time he just said goodbye to his interlocutors and walked out of the kitchen and both father Lantom and Foggy knew he was angry. Little do they knew that it was going to get worse.


	6. Part 6

**This chapter is short, but filled with feels. I must say I wanted to use the song featured in this part for a really long time.**

 **Also - title drop! (sorta)**

 **Part 6**

Jack was walking from one corner of his temporary bedroom to the other. He was lost, and confused, and – above all – angry. He was angry that he lost twenty years of his and Matt's life. He was angry at a mysterious man, who beaten up his son. He was angry at father Lantom, because the priest was holding him there, even thought Jack saw Matt's bruises. He was angry at mister Nelson, because Matt's supposed best friend was hiding something about Matt from him. And he was angry at himself, because at this point he had no idea what to do with all of this.

The boxer could still see his adult son. First – the lawyer, an owner of small law firm, happy and well, and oh, so confident, even though, the life was never kind to him. Matty being happy and successful was all Jack ever wanted.

He could still see his son's smile. Through his life Jack was seeing many smiles of Matt. Infant Matt giggling at his father's funny face. Toddler Matt grinning at the dreamed toy he got on his fourth birthday. Eight year old Matt beaming with pride, because he managed to impress his dad with his knowledge. And now the adult Matt smiling sympathetically, not even knowing that he was smiling to his own, brought to life father.

Then this wonderful sight was replaced by the image of Matt sitting on the church bench with black eye. He was acting very casually. The church acoustics helped Jack hear some of Matt and father Lantom's conversation. His son was asking about him – "Jack Battle" – and father Lantom tried to hide Jack's identity, at the same time being honest with Matt. Only in the end the priest addressed the young man's black eye, but instead of asking what happened, he took him to the confessional. Like it was Matt's fault that some asshole had beaten him up!

The implication that Matt could hit someone was ridiculous. Sure, Matty was fighting sometimes with other kids, but he was always a kind soul. Always ready to help. Always friendly to anybody, he met. And after the accident who would seriously consider that a quiet, blind kid would throw a punch or kick somebody? No, Jack knew that his son would never hurt a fly. Besides, Jack raised him better than that.

So how dare father Lantom was implying that his kind, defenseless – not to mention: _blind_ – son could get into a fight? It had to be that his son was attacked by someone else. And this was pissing Jack off – the priest and mister Nelson not telling him what happened and acting like it was all normal that some bastard was hurting a blind man.

The adrenaline was boiling inside of Jack the more he was thinking about it. He gave a heavy sigh and then he looked at the radio standing on the cabinet. Frankly, it wasn't some new radio from 21th century, but the one from Jack's times, so he was familiar with its working. The boxer stood up and turned the it on.

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more._

 _What'd you say?_

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more._

Incredible. Of all the songs ever made, he had to hear this one. A song about a loser man named Jack, who hears from his woman that he can leave with his sorry ass and never come back. A song written and performed by a blind musician, no less! What a weird coincidence… Then again, not long time ago he woke up twenty years in the future, even though, he was supposed to be dead.

The boxer sat on the bed and just listened to the lyrics that seemed to talk to him. He felt how his anger fades away, leaving only sadness.

 _Old woman, old woman, oh, you treat me so mean._

 _You're the meanest, old woman that I ever have seen._

 _Well, I guess, if you say so_

 _I'll have to pack my things and go (that's right)._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more._

 _What'd you say._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more._

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more._

Memories started to flow in his head. They were mostly sad memories, like Maggie leaving him or Matty's scared scream right after he woke up and realized he's blind. But those sad memories were mixed with happy ones, like the day Matt was born or the kid's smile, when he said: "I already read Braille faster.", making his old man laugh.

 _Now baby, listen baby, don't you treat me this way,_

' _Cause I'll be back on my feet some day._

 _Don't care if you do, cause it's understood._

 _You ain't got no money, you just a no good._

 _Well I guess if you say so._

 _I'll have to pack my things and go (that's right)._

And then he remembered his mangers telling him about Creel.

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more…_

He remembered how hyped out he was, when heard that they will let him fight with such a prominent opponent; and how disappointed he was, when he realized he was supposed to lose this fight.

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more._

He took the offer, of course, he did, the money wasn't hanging on trees and he had a son to take care of.

 _What'd you say…_

"We're Murdocks — we get hit a lot. But we get up, right dad? We always get up." His son saying those words was enough to change his mind. To decide that this time he will use all his might and tactic to fight – that this time he will win and make his son proud.

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more, no more, no more, no more…_

It was a risky plan, so he had to prepare himself for the worst. He betted for himself and ordered his bookie to put prize on Matt's account. He also called Maggie and told her to take care of their son, if anything would happen to Jack.

 _Hit the road, Jack, and don't cha come back_

 _No more…_

But it was only when he left the ring and heard the cheering crowd, when he felt like he was ready to die. Looking back, it was kind of vane of him to listen to his name being shouted by all those people, but back then he knew that he did something great, something awesome. He made his son – _and_ himself – proud. He shall call it his greatest achievement.

 _Well…_

Jack remembered the hurry. He needed to go to Matty as fast as he could. To tell him about the victory. Subconsciously he knew there wasn't much time to be happy and to share this happiness with his son.

 _Uh, what you say?_

 _I didn't understand you._

 _Don't you come back no more._

 _You can't mean that._

 _Don't you come back no more._

 _Oh, now baby, please._

He remembered the darkness of the street. The coldness of the evening. The heaviness of his bag.

 _Don't you come back no more._

 _What you tryin' to do to me?_

 _don't you come back no more._

 _Oh, don't treat me like that._

And then he remembered the gunshot. Nothing more, just a gunshot echoing in his skull. The last thing he remembered from that night.

 _Don't cha come back_

 _No more._

Jack felt the overwhelming wave of sadness and he started to cry for the second time since his unexpected awakening. Maybe he really shouldn't come back. He knew he won't be living for long, when he decided to win with Creel. He knew that he was basically sacrificing himself for his little boy.

 _How can I come to him and just say: 'Hi, Matty, it's dad'? How can I even_ _ **look**_ _into Matt's eyes? Me coming back… it would turn his life upside down._

 _Yes, it would…_

For a moment Jack thought that he should stay dead. His son had his own happy life and a newly resurrected father could only bring chaos to this happy life. It wasn't like Jack was ready to face him again after that failure in "Nelson and Murdock". He should keep himself as far away from Matty, as he could.

But then a memory of Matt's black eye flashed in Jack's memory and suddenly boxer thought that maybe this was the reason behind his revival. Maybe some higher force decided that he had to protect his son from this mysterious bully, who was hurting his child. And even if it wasn't the case, Jack still was going to do that. Because if he couldn't see or speak with Matt, he at least had to protect him.

His sadness turned into anger once again. It was a righteous anger, an anger of a man, who had seen enough of his loved ones suffering to do something about it. An anger that was boiling inside of him, reaching higher and higher levels, yet managing to not cloud his mind. The devil that Jack was always releasing on the ring, was now calling to him, ready to spill this wrath on whoever gave Jack's little boy this black eye.

And so Jack Murdock decided – he was going to the gym that night, no matter what father Lantom wanted to say about the boxer leaving hide-out. He was going to do that not only because he needed to think of the best plan, but also because he wanted to face Matt's oppressor with cool mind. Besides, he was always training before big fights.

* * *

Jack used the opportunity that father Lantom was busy looking something in the computer, and escaped through window in his bedroom. His blood was boiling and he was longing to release it on some punching bag. After couple of minutes he managed to get to his old gym. This time he didn't just stand in front of it and observe the building from the distance. This time he walked right into it, feeling the energy crackling in his body.

It changed, of course, it changed. Some posters were absent from the walls and the equipment looked newer… but the familiar smell brought back old memories.

An image flashed before his eyes. He was standing in the gym. His old coach was waiting for him on the ring, ready for another session before big match… And at the table couple of inches from the ring was sitting nine year old Matty – quietly listening to the sounds of the gym and running his little fingers on books written in Braille. After the training both Murdocks would probably go home or on ice cream. Jack would ask Matt if he finished his homework and the kid would probably say something clever which make his old man both proud and happy.

For a moment Jack felt like he didn't sleep over all those years. Like the thing that happened to him earlier was just a dream. Maybe if he come back to his flat right now, he will realize that Matty was waiting for him, ready to congratulate him on his victory.

A familiar voice brought him back to reality, startling him. Only when he heard that voice he realized that he wasn't completely alone in the gym.

"Oh, welcome, mister Battle." Matt stopped hitting the punching bag and turned in his father's direction. "I never suspected to meet you again so soon."


	7. Post 7

**I wanted to finish this chapter, because I will probably be out of the town and Internet for two days.**

 **I've tried my best, people. Tell me if I succeeded.**

 **Part 7**

Jack was stunned for a moment, looking at his son in silence. The first thing that caught boxer's attention were Matt's eyes, since this time the younger man wasn't wearing his shades. After the accident Matt was wearing glasses almost all the time and Jack could hardly see his son's eyes, maybe in night, when the boy was waking up from a nightmare and called him from his bedroom. The funny thing was that if someone looked at these eyes, that person would probably not know (at least at first) that Matty was blind. It weren't those generic blank, gray eyes. These eyes had a color – a beautiful dark brown color, the boy inherited from his mother. But they weren't moving and that was the indication that little Matt Murdock was blind.

Now Jack was looking into those eyes, when Matt smiled sympathetically. They didn't change all that much – still dark, beautiful and unmoving, yet filled with emotion. The boxer found himself lost in them. Without his shades Matt looked even more handsome and even more friendly. It was like looking at the puppy. And for a moment Jack felt sad that those beautiful eyes can't see.

It was so weird to see his son here, in the gym. What he was doing there? He was supposed to be a lawyer, not a boxer. But Jack quickly reminded himself that the fact, his son was attending this gym didn't necessarily mean that he was fighting with anyone for money. Maybe he just wanted to work on his condition and this was a place, where he was feeling safe. And judging by his arms, the workout was effective. Those arms… they didn't belong to a weakling. His hands were moving quickly, making a loud thud noises, hitting the punching bag with proper force and precision.

 _Look, mister Murdock, it's not my secret to tell, but I do say this: Matt is stronger than you suspect. It's one of few things he got after you, sir._

A thought crossed Jack's mind. Maybe his son was attending this gym, because he wanted to defend himself from people who was hurting him.

"Please, don't be bothered by me, mister Battle." Matt said, coming back to punching the bag. "Feel free to ignore me and focus on your training. Because you've come here to train, right?" His eyebrows raised.

It would be so easy to just speak up and say: "Matty, it's me, daddy…", but Jack felt how the panic was raising inside of him once again. He knew, he couldn't go through this. Not being here, alone with Matty, not now. He wasn't ready.

So he turned back and put his hand on the doorknob… but before he could do anything, he heard Matt calling after him:

"Am I that intimidating, mister Battle?"

Jack quickly turned to him and froze. How did Matt knew what he was doing? Were his steps that loud? It seemed that somehow, someway, Matt was able to tell where the boxer was standing. Maybe it was something, his son learned after all those years of being blind.

Jack cleared his throat and with a lowered voice he finally spoke:

"No, I just didn't want to disturb you, mister Murdock. I will come back later."

"Please, stay." Matt said, smiling. Saying those words, he stopped hitting the punching bag and took a hold of it. "You're not disturbing me at all, mister Battle. And if you don't feel like training, we can just talk."

Jack knew this whole situation was risky and he still was on the verge of panic… yet some part of him wanted to stay here and talk. Just _talk_. About random things – about Matt's law firm, about his favorite books, about those little bits of his life that weren't very important to others, but Jack felt like it were the most important things in the world. With every passing second this desire was getting stronger and stronger, pushing the panic away. And soon Jack found himself approaching his son and leaning on the edge of the ring, few steps away from Matt. It was still making him nervous. The boxer could feel how his hands were sweating; he could hear his own heart banging slowly, but loudly. Matt sat beside him and Jack got even more nervous.

"You know, mister Battle," Matt began. "I was coming to this gym with my dad."

Jack felt how the temperature in the room dropped suddenly.

"He was a boxer. Maybe you've heard of him. Battlin' Jack Murdock."

"N-no, I… don't recall that name." Jack tried to maintain the lower voice, but he suddenly realized his throat was dry.

At first Matt looked like he wasn't convinced. Nevertheless, he smiled lightly.

"Of course, he was a minor boxer from Hell's Kitchen. And he was fighting mostly with minor boxers from Hell's Kitchen."

"Maybe that's why I've never heard of him." Jack tried to sound cheerful.

"He wasn't very famous. He was mostly losing on the ring." Matt's smile changed into a weaker one.

And Jack felt how his heart started to sink. He remembered the expression on Matt's face whenever he was coming back after another failure – paid or not.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't help himself. "it… must have been hard to not have a reason to be proud of your own father."

Matt's face expression changed into more fierce. He seemed to be offended by this implication.

"He might have not win most of his fights, but even when he was losing, he was standing on his two feet." He said and there was so much pride, conviction and… just love in the way he was saying it.

 _Oh, really? It's funny, you're saying that, mister Murdock, because I didn't get that impression from any of Matt's stories. What I did get was the image of a hardworking man, doing everything to provide for his family. A strong, tough man, who was standing on his two feet, even when he was losing on the ring. A man, who was teaching his son that he should use his head, not his fists. When Matt was talking about you, mister Murdock, I was always getting the feeling that he's very proud of you…_

This time Jack felt warmth inside of him. So Matt really _was_ proud of him. Guess, determination on the ring was something to be proud of.

"He once was fighting with a really famous opponent." Matt continued. "Creel. Have you heard of him?"

And right back to this sinking feeling.

"I think… I might have heard of him." Jack said shyly.

His Matty smiled again.

"It was my dad's greatest victory. He defeated him almost in one go."

Well, Jack wouldn't say it was in one go, but he couldn't help but grin at his son's words. This was why he was fighting that night (among other, more practical reasons). He wanted to see Matty being happy of his father's fight. No pity, no sadness hidden behind forced smiles. Just triumphant happiness over such victory. And Jack was hurrying so much to meet with the boy and see it for the first time in his life.

The numb memory of gunshot brought him back to reality. Jack saddened, remembering what happened next. And judging by Matt's expression and sudden silence, he remembered it too. Jack knew he had to do something.

"And you come here to be like him one day? As in – you want to be a fighter like your father?" It was only thing he could think of at that moment. But right after the boxer said it, he realized that he really wanted to know.

"Partly, but that's not the main reason." Was Matt's answer. "It's one of the few places when I feel good. Besides," He turned to his interlocutor and saddened. "my dad never wanted me to fight."

Jack was observing the young man in front of him. Yes, he never wanted Matt to fight, but looking at him, in that gym, with black eye and cut lip, he couldn't help but think that maybe Matty went against his father's wishes.

No, he didn't want to believe it. Matt couldn't do that. He wasn't like that.

Jack wanted to ask where this black eye came from. But he knew that Matt won't tell him. Of course, Matty won't open up to total stranger. Not about… whatever it was. Maybe later… Maybe when they will be over with all the secrets. Maybe when Matt will know that he had a father again. But not now.

Jack felt another urge to reveal himself, but he suppressed it.

"How about you, mister Battle?" His boy asked suddenly. "What brings you here?"

At first Jack didn't know what to say. Should he tell the truth? Or just say that he wanted to train. Well, he didn't want to lie. He already said few lies. He might as well add some truth to it.

"I wanted to think." He replied shortly. "I can think the best, while hitting the punching bag."

"I see. I'm like that too." Matt grinned, but then he saddened. "And I guess you wanted to be alone and my presence here ruined it."

"No, not at all." Jack waved his hands in denial, even though, Matt couldn't see this gesture.

"Should I leave you alone?" The younger man asked. "So you can train peacefully?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. To be fair, he didn't want to train anymore. Instead, he wanted to talk with his son.

"Actually, I don't feel like training right now." He finally said. "How about you, mister Murdock?"

"Well," Matt straightened himself and stood up. "I think I'm finished for tonight. So how about we go back to parish and ask father Lantom if we could get some coffee?"

Jack knew that return to parish, especially with Matty, might end badly to him… but he had nothing against spending more time with his boy. After all, they had so much to catch up with. So maybe they could go on a long walk, before they will come back to father Lantom?

The boxer proposed it to Matt. The lawyer agreed that it was a good idea.

"I will only change into my normal clothes and we can go."

And so he went to the locker-room. Jack waited three minutes for his son to change and soon Matt came out, wearing a black coat and his shades; with white cane in his hand and bag, hanging on the shoulder. He still had this sympathetic look in him, but lost some of it, due to his eyes being hidden behind those dark glasses. So little changes and how differently his son was looking.

Both men left the gym.

"So where do we go now?" Matt asked. And before Jack could respond, he added: "Oh, I know a really nice pizzeria down here. Come with me." And he started to walk down the street.

Jack put the hoodie on his head, trying to conceal his face, and followed his son. He hoped that the pizzeria Matty was talking about, wasn't ran by anyone, who would recognize him.

The air was cold, but Jack didn't feel it all that much. In fact, he suddenly realized that he was feeling warm. Maybe it was the fact that his hoodie was so thick, or maybe the closeness of his son. He remembered that he was sometimes walking these streets with little Matty – first pulling the carriage with the boy in it, then holding the kid's hand and finally walking beside him. Now, he was walking beside him once again, but this time it wasn't a little boy, but a grown up man. Come to think of it, this little trip was their first father-son trip since twenty years. It was such a shame that Matty didn't know that.

Once again Jack felt like he could tell his son, who he really was. And once again he decided against that.

They've reached the zebra crossing and Jack instinctively took a hold of Matt's arm to stop him. A second later he realized, he just touched Matt. He touched him for the first time since the awakening. And it left on him an electrifying sensation. He quickly withdrew his hand.

"I-I'm sorry."

"Why, mister Battle?" Matt asked, grinning. "You only wanted to prevent me from getting ran over by a car."

Jack felt stupid. Why it had to be so strange and difficult? Why he had to act that way around his own son?

"Come on." Matt said when the signal lights changed. "Pizza waits."

And so they went to the pizzeria.

They've ordered a medium margarita and just sat at the table. It was warm and cozy, and Jack just wanted to live this moment forever. Sitting there and talking with Matt – it was like a return to simple times. Maybe they could build up from the scratch. Maybe they could make it work. He would say sorry and explain everything and Matt will listen and understand, how much his father regrets waking up so late and not being there for him. Now Jack Murdock wanted nothing more than make up for all those years of his absence…

But he couldn't say any of those things. He wanted to tell his son that it is he – his dad. But he just couldn't. So he was sitting across his little Matty and looking at him as he was talking about his college years with mister Nelson; about a really boring book Matt was reading recently (well, technically he was listening to the audio book… technology was getting better); about this annoying way some people were reacting to his blindness. Apparently, Matt didn't like it, when people were walking on eggshells around him. Jack could understand that. Maybe it wasn't as infuriating as Jack's managers treating his son's blindness like the kid was broken or something, but it had some shades of pity.

And suddenly Jack felt the need to explain himself.

"Mister Murdock, I just want to say that during our last encounter… I didn't left, because you're blind."

"I didn't get that impression, mister Battle. Although, my partner did." Matt gave him another of his sympathetic smiles.

"Really?"

"Really." Matt nodded. "Can I ask why you've left?"

A moment of silence. Jack once again found himself speechless. What should he say? "I left because I am your long lost father and, seeing you after twenty years, I panicked"? Or maybe he shouldn't say anything.

"It's nothing." He finally decided. "It was a stupid thing to come to you, anyway."

"Oh, no, I don't think it was stupid. You've told mister Nelson that you need a legal help. I can't force you to come back, mister Battle, but I can assure you that whatever you came to us with, we would be glad to help you."

"I know." Jack smiled and looked at his son. "I know that you're a good man, mister Murdock."

Better than his old man could ever hope for…

After eating the margarita, they've split the bill (Jack insisted on taking care of the margarita's price, but Matt said that he invited him here, so bill should be on him; and after two minutes of arguing, they finally decided to pay for pizza together). Jack felt tired, so Matt proposed to walk him to the parish. The boxer didn't want to go there, after all, he would have to somehow avoid the priest, to whom he promised to not come out from his hide-out.

"I don't want to meet with father Lantom either." Said his son as if he was reading his mind. "I would propose my own flat, but it has a big, red neon, so sighted person wouldn't probably sleep well there."

Jack thought about it for a moment. Was he ready to spend night with his son, or was it all moving too soon?

"No," He said quietly. "I should come back to parish."

And so they did.

* * *

Standing at the gate to the church, Matt was listening to mister Battle's heartbeat and carefully examining his body heat. The man seemed to be nervous. Of course, Matt was aware that it was due to mister Battle knowing him. Earlier he was lying that he didn't know who Battlin' Jack Murdock was and he reacted funny when Matt told him that his dad was always losing with grace. But the most weird thing Matt noticed in his interlocutor was that he was silent after Matt told him about Creel… and then mister Battle's heartbeat suddenly got louder and faster. The story must have triggered some unpleasant memory in the other man.

Throughout this night with Matt mister Battle was jumping from nervousness to relaxation. He tried to act casual and there were times when he really was chilled out… but once in a while Matt was noticing a sudden change in the other man's mood and attitude. He was tense, he wasn't saying much, and if he did, it was a dismissive lie. He was hiding something.

Now he was tense too. And as much as Matt wanted to keep the promise given to father Lantom, he was _dying_ to know who the mysterious mister Battle really was. The man's specific smell, his changed voice and all the little things about him weren't enough clues to give Matt anything. Of course, they were giving him one solution, but it seemed stupid, implausible and downright wrong.

There was slight chance that he will get the idea if he… but then again, it could also give him nothing at all. It wasn't like he touched every face of every person he ever met. Nevertheless, Matt decided to try. But he wanted to be civil about it.

"Can I read you, mister Battle?" He asked.

There was this again – the silence broken only by the heartbeat getting abruptly faster. So Matt decided to smile.

"I know it seems weird, but I would like to know how you look like. Of course, if you don't want to, mister Battle, I will respect that."

That seemed to calm mister Battle a little. He was silent for another couple of seconds and, judging by the tension hanging in the air, Matt suspected that he was going to refuse. Well, of course, he would. Not everybody was okay with strange man running his fingers on their faces. But Matt could also sense a hesitation. Just like the first time, when mister Battle didn't know whenever he wanted to shake Matt's hand or run away.

Then the man took a deep breath and finally spoke:

"I guess, it won't harm anyone."

Matt didn't know what made mister Battle to agree on it, but there was some kind of sympathy and readiness in his voice. Like he reconciled with something and decided that he couldn't prolong it anymore.

And so Matt slowly put his hands on other man's cheeks. The lawyer started to ran his fingers up mister Battle's face, registering every hollowness, every hillock, every wrinkle and every shape. With every touch, the pattern was getting astonishingly familiar.

 _Everything's so loud…_

 _I'm here with you. It's dad. Here, feel my face. Feel my face. I'm right here…_

He quickly realized that he could hear two heartbeats getting faster – mister Battle's and his own. He checked mister's Battle features again, focusing on him, instead of the sound of his own pounding heart. He had to make sure that what he was touching was really the thing he thought it was.

 _I've never studied. Look what it got me…_

He was touching this face various times, when he was nine. Sometimes it was swollen and sometimes it was dripping with blood. But Matt could recognize the shape of this face anywhere. First time he touched it that horrible night in the hospital. The last time…

 _Dad? Daddy! Daddy!_

 _Daddy!_ – this word was echoing in his head, just like various times when he was remembering the night his father was taken from him. He reconciled with the thought that he will never hear his dad's voice again; he will never smell the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and talcum again; he will never feel this face again. Yet he couldn't deny that mister Battle's purposely lowered voice sounded like his father's; that the man's scent was exactly what Matt remembered from his childhood; and that the face he was touching right now, had the same pattern as his dad's face.

Tears started to ran down lawyer's cheeks and he started to sob, but he didn't stop the reading of his father's face, like he was trying to assure himself that the other man was still there, standing in front of him. He quickly realized that this face all of sudden got wet in area of the eyes.

"Dad?" Matt whispered with shaking voice.

Suddenly he felt how mister Battle – no, how his _father_ – rested his own hand on Matt's cheek. Matt quickly recognized this hand too – this hand that was touching his face, poking his shoulders, resting on his head, whenever Jack was kissing his son's forehead.

"Please, don't cry, Matty." Jack said. This time his voice sounded normal, only a bit shaken from the emotions. "Because I will start to cry too."

Matt chuckled through sobs.

"You already do, dad."

"Oh, bagger." Jack chuckled too. And then he pulled his son into his large arms.


	8. Part 8

**You know, writting this chapter I suspected that this fanfic will have 10 parts, but the way this chapter ends made me realize that I need to do at least 11. So yeah, at least three more parts of this thing.**

 **Part 8**

His father's arms were just like he remembered them (although Matt himself was certainly bigger this time). They were warm, strong and smelled the familiar mix of cologne and talcum. Matt was still crying the tears of happiness, not believing that his previous bizarre suspicions turned out to be true. After all, Matt remembered the gunshot, he remembered running to the alley and he remembered this horrible moment when he felt his dad's face, realizing that the body in front of him is just corpse. But it looked like, somehow, someway, his dad was back from dead.

Suddenly Matt broke the embrace and checked his father's face one more time.

"Matty?" Jack sounded nervous.

"Not only you're back, but you also didn't grow old at all. How it is possible, dad?" Matt asked, withdrawing his hands. He also registered the sound of sacristy door being opened.

"I don't know, Matty." Was Jack's response to his son's question. "I-I just woke up and the last thing I remembered was fight with Creel."

Someone was coming to them from the church. That person's steps sounded very impatient. They stopped and both Murdocks heard the familiar voice.

"Are you two going to stand here all night? Or you will just come in, so we can discuss the situation?"

Matt smiled to father Lantom.

"Maybe that will be the best course of action right now."

* * *

Father Lantom was observing both Murdocks, sitting at the kitchen table, and wondering what to do with them. First Jack explained for the third time what happened to him after the awakening, then – after a short moment of silence – Matthew asked the priest what he thought about Jack's resurrection. Father Lantom already gathered some data, but he didn't want to uncover it before talking with both Jack and Matthew about their reckless actions. And so they told him how they've met on a gym, went on pizza and found out about the truth standing at the church gate.

Father Lantom wasn't a violent man. He knew few violent men, but he himself preferred more peaceful solutions. However, even as calm person as him had their limits and after hearing from both Jack and Matthew about their encounter, he decided to talk some sense to them.

And so father Lantom extended his arms and hit both Murdocks at the back of their heads (he expected Matthew to dodge the hit, but apparently the Devil of Hell's Kitchen decided to not reveal himself before his father… or to just take the punishment). Their reactions were, of course, "Ouch…" with expressions of: "What was that for?!" on their faces.

"You, Jack," The priest pointed his finger at the boxer. "promised me you won't go out. And you, Matthew," he turned to the blind man. "promised me, you won't be bothering him, unless he will be ready to reveal himself."

"Well, technically I just asked, if I can read his face. If he said 'no', I would leave him alone." Matthew gave him a wide grin. "But dad said 'yes', so I guess, he was ready, after all."

"He was always a smartass." Jack commented, also smiling. "Ever since preschool."

Father Lantom sighed and looked to him.

"So it turns out that only you broke a promise, Jack." He observed as the older of the Murdocks stopped smiling, and only then the priest went on with his scolding: "Do you have any idea how risky it was? There are people, who _remember_ you. You were lucky enough that you haven't been recognized by anyone in your block, but how do you know if somebody from your past spotted you on the street?"

"Yeah, that was pretty risky." Matthew cut in, his face now very serious. "Imagine what Roscoe and Silke would do, if they found out you're alive, dad."

The last sentence made Jack silent for a moment. The boxer looked down, probably in shame, but also in thought. Father Lantom wasn't familiar with those two names – Roscoe and Silke – but he suspected they had to be people, who betted for Creel and maybe even ordered someone to shoot Jack. The boxer was sitting in the silence, thinking about them and staring at the floor… but then his expression changed to more determined and he gazed at his son.

"I had to go out." His voice was silent, but easily hearable. "Matty, I had to."

Matthew didn't say anything, at first. He only straightened himself on the chair.

"You told me, you've come to the gym to think. What it is that you wanted to think about?"

This time father Lantom knew what was the answer. He felt that they were close to reveal another secret, this time – Matthew's. And he didn't know if it was the good moment or how Jack will react to information that his son is a vigilante.

Jack looked at Matthew and said:

"I wanted to think what to do with the bastard, who is hurting you."

A moment of silence and…

"Dad, what are you talking about?" Matthew smiled with nervousness.

"Your father have seen us talking at the morning." Father Lantom decided to cut in. "And he was worried since he noticed your black eye."

The priest quickly saw the small, barely noticeable change in the young man's expression. Matthew lost some of his confidence. Still, he tried to act casual.

"It's nothing, dad." He smiled. "I just…"

"Matty, if you're gonna tell me some not very smart lie, there's no use." Jack didn't let him finish. "I can always tell whenever the wound is from accident or from the hit. Besides," he leaned his arms on the table. "father Lantom and mister Nelson already confirmed that someone was beating you."

Even though, Matthew couldn't see, the priest felt his disappointed and maybe even betrayed gaze. Father Lantom turned to the lawyer and was going to explain everything, but Jack did it instead.

"They both were very vogue about it, telling me that I should ask you personally what exactly happened. So tell me, Matty," He leaned even more towards his son. "who did this to you?"

None of three men in the kitchen said anything. Jack was waiting for his son's response, father Lantom wondered how this whole situation will turn out and Matthew… Matthew bit his lip in nervousness, probably not knowing if it was the right moment to tell his father about his night activities.

Jack grew impatient and decided to prompt him:

"Was this made by this psycho? This so-called Daredevil?"

This time Matthew didn't hide his feelings. His face expression changed into shock. Father Lantom also noticed that the young man's shoulders tensed.

"No." The lawyer finally spoke. "Daredevil didn't do this."

The priest couldn't help but think that in some way Daredevil was actually guilty of those wounds. After all, Matthew wouldn't get them, if he wasn't spending his nights as a vigilante.

"Then who did this?" Jack inquired further. His tone was harsh and demanding, and impatient. Father Lantom didn't have to look at Matthew to know that this tone wasn't helping him open up to his own father.

"For God's sake, Jack, don't push him so hard!" The priest said. "When he'll be ready, he will tell you."

"Thank you, father." The lawyer replied.

But Jack didn't seem to agree. He shot the priest a cold, almost accusatory glare… however, his facial expression softened and he looked at his son. Matthew, on the other hand, remained calm, although, there was still some tension in his posture and on his face.

"Matty, please, tell me." Jack Murdock said those words almost begging.

Matthew was still silent, but he put his hand on the table and extended it towards his father, indicating that Jack should take it. So the boxer put his hand in his son's, and Matt squished it, smiling lightly, but with a shade of acrimony.

"Look, dad," He began with his most sincere and soft voice. "I _will_ tell you. But not tonight. Can you wait just one more day?"

Jack didn't respond immediately. He was observing Matthew intensively, probably thinking this offer through. Father Lantom wondered if he was going to agree. The priest preferred him to agree. After all, Matthew's secret wasn't one of lightly matter. The young man for sure needed to think of the words, in which he was going to deliver the news, not to mention prepare himself emotionally for this talk. The priest still remembered when Matthew told him how Foggy learned his secret. It was really heartbreaking experience that almost ended their friendship. So right now Matt was afraid that his father's reaction could be the same.

"I think…" Jack began slowly and gave his son another sad look. "I think I can wait."

Matthew grinned.

"Tomorrow at midnight. Oh, and, dad…"

He stood up, approached his father and whispered something to his ear. Jack only looked at him with surprise, but nodded in agreement. Matthew went back to his seat.

For a moment father Lantom thought that both Murdocks forgot that he was going to say something about resurrection. To be fair, a lot happened today – Foggy learned the truth, then Jack went out, met with Matthew and Matthew found out about his father, now this… – and it was really late, so the priest thought that it wouldn't be bad if he postponed unavoidable moment of telling them what he found out.

"So, father," Matthew said. "let's come back to the subject of dad's resurrection." His face became more serious. "You wanted to tell us something."

And so it seemed that they will have to discuss one more thing that night.

"Ah, yes." Father Lantom began. "I've done research as to how your father came back to us from dead. I've even asked for consultation a friend of mine, who works on university. From what I gathered, I see only three options."

 _That is, of course, if we assume that Jack really is, who he claims he is._ – went through father Lantom's mind, but he decided it was best to keep it for himself. At least for now. As much as he would like to assume that the man at his table really was Battlin' Jack Murdock brought back to life, he should also put into consideration some ordinary explanations.

Well, if he was someone, who's supposed to impersonate Jack Murdock, he did it really well. He looked just like him. This could be a result of plastic surgery… _but_ he didn't look the way Battlin' Jack Murdock should look like after twenty years. He looked like he didn't age at all. Taking a plastic surgery, so he could look just like twenty years earlier… It wasn't making sense. Not if he was supposed to be a long lost father.

He also knew lots of details about Jack Murdock's life. Well, someone could prepare him for the role, tell him about Jack's life just before his death… but he also knew about such intimate things like the whisky story. Father Lantom suspected that it was something Matthew told Foggy in private, when they were sharing a friendship moment.

It also seemed that Matthew believed this man from the moment Jack revealed himself as his father. Now, maybe he wasn't listening to his heartbeat carefully, because he was happy with the perspective of having Jack back, still he wasn't a fool. He would know if someone was lying to him or not.

No, the man, who was brought to the parish only yesterday, was Battlin' Jack Murdock. Father Lantom had no doubt about it, because the man's love for his son was genuine. The worry about Matthew's wounds, the anger that someone dared to hurt him, the pride of his boy's achievements… Jack's fatherly side was just too strong and too real to think that he was someone else. When it came to emotions, the priest could always tell them apart and determine if they're fake or not.

Father Lantom straightened in his chair and got to the point:

"First option – and I will be the first to admit it's ridiculous, but bear with me – Jack is a zombie."

"Zombie?" Matthew chuckled with disbelief.

"A voodoo priests supposedly know how to bring corpses to life with proper ritual." Father Lantom explained. "But we can put it aside, because in that case Jack would be a skeleton, because his body would be decomposed long time ago. And he would probably wake up in his grave, not in the alley."

"I would never imagine you put zombification into consideration, father." The lawyer said, still amused.

"Well, if you want a more theological solution, the other option is divine miracle. For some reason, God decided to resurrect Jack, just like He did it with Lazarus."

"Right!" Matthew cut in. "Lazarus was decomposing for three days and yet Jesus managed to bring him back with his body intact."

"It wasn't said specifically in the Bible, but we can assume it." The priest replied, smiling lightly. "After all, at the End of Days we all will be brought back to life. However," His face expression became serious. "there is also a third, more ominous option. That Jack was resurrected not by God, but by the devil."

Father Lantom observed reactions of his two guests. Neither Jack, nor Matthew didn't say anything, but they looked disturbed by the implication. The priest decided to elaborate.

"As any angel, devil is capable of performing 'miracles'. But his 'miracles' always turn up… broken. Maybe somebody sold their soul, so Jack would be brought back to life?"

"Are you suggesting it could be me?" Matthew asked.

"No, I don't think so. I'm also not very convinced we have a case of demon act here." Father Lantom said (and he actually wasn't lying there). He cleared his throat and added: "Anyway, this is all I could found out. There is no other way Jack could be brought back to life. At least my friend couldn't find any other way."

"The secret of resurrection seems like something that shouldn't be well known by ordinary people, even by scholars." Matthew commented. "If I knew how to bring back dead people, I wouldn't tell just anybody, but person who seemed to be responsible enough for that kind of power."

"What do you want to say, Matty?" Jack asked.

"I think there can be a fourth option." The lawyer replied. "That there can be people capable of resurrecting the dead. Not zombies, but bodies with souls."

"Who could it be, for example?" Father Lantom inquired.

Both he and Jack looked at the younger man. Matthew only lifted his chin and said:

"I don't know."


	9. Part 9

**Part 9**

Jack was sitting in the church and gazing at the cross in front of him. He was alone, aside maybe from father Lantom doing something in the sacristy.

Nevertheless, he was alone. Alone with his thoughts.

The silence helped him. He was still confused, even more so after the conversation he had with Matty and father Lantom. Last night he barely slept, thinking about all four options of his possible resurrection. It seemed so unreal, even more, when he actually started to think about it. Some part of him really wanted to convince him that this is all a really long, tiresome dream. Maybe – in fact – he wasn't alive at all. Maybe this was all an afterlife, a Purgatory… Although, Jack imagined Purgatory a bit differently.

 _As any angel, devil is capable of performing "miracles". But his "miracles" always turn up… broken._

 _Broken_ … Jack certainly felt like he was broken. Out of place. Lost. Confused. When he woke up in that fateful, alley he didn't realize what it actually meant. He didn't think he was resurrected after twenty years of being dead. And now he felt that he didn't belong here. Maybe this sad feeling was something else. Deep down he knew that he shouldn't even be here. That his presence here is unnatural.

Last night he had a dream. He and Matty were somewhere, having good time… but then his son's expression changed from happiness to shock. Jack didn't know what to think about it, but he had a feeling something bad just happened. After a short moment he realized that he was falling apart – his hands went dry and turned into dust. Then his forearms, elbows, biceps… torso, neck, face… Until there was no more of him… And when this thought crossed his mind, he woke up.

Jack looked at the sculpture on the cross. Was he resurrected by God? Or by the devil? And if it was the latter, did he still have a soul? But if he was brought back by the devil, should he be unable to sit there, surrounded by religious symbols?

He really hoped it was God's way. That there was a purpose in him being here. The alternative was just too horrible to stand it.

Jack made a sign of cross and kneeled, lowering his gaze. He regretted that he didn't have a rosary. His mother used to say that Chaplet of Devine Mercy was a guarantee of prayers being listened to. Alas, he had to rely on his own words.

"Please, Lord…"

He stopped. What he actually wanted to ask for? After all, if it was – in the end – devil's doing, it was no point in: "Please, let it be the other thing." Then again, God can do everything, that's what people were saying.

Jack looked up, at the cross.

"Please, Lord…" This words were lingering in the air, as Jack tried to gather his thoughts and verbalize his prayer. After a short musing he knew what to say: "Deliver me from evil."

* * *

He had a father again.

It was a really weird feeling. Matt knew that there was no good words to describe properly what he actually felt, but he himself would settle for a mix of disbelief, anxiety and happiness. It was like a dream. He sometimes had dreams in the orphanage about his dad being alive and coming for him, but these dreams were always ending abruptly, either by other dreams or by harsh reality. Now some part of him was waiting for the end of this dream that seemed to go on longer than the dreams in orphanage. But it wasn't ending.

Matt could still feel his father's face under his fingers. He could still feel Jack's hand on his cheek. It seemed too real, too tangible to be a dream. So Matt Murdock had to believe that his father came back to him after twenty years of being deceased.

He could already imagine himself and his dad doing things together. Eating family dinners, going on games and road trips; catching up after all those years. Matt could do everything he ever wished to do with his father after the fight with Creel. He had so much to tell, so much to do… It would be so wonderful.

Of course, after Jack's death Matt had a father figures… Well, sort of. Stick didn't want to be that kind of person to Matt. He wanted a soldier, he said it himself. And father Lantom… Father Lantom was a shepherd. He had to take care of his parishioners, he had to support and lead every soul that was seeking help. In the end, Matt had only one father and it was Jack Murdock.

But as much as Matt was happy with the return of his father, there was one thing seriously bothering him. Something that was making this wonderful, miraculous reunion a bit bitter. Matt was scared and worried. Various horrible scenarios were flashing in his mind as he was trying to imagine his father's reaction.

"You should hear him, Foggy." He shared his doubts with business partner, who was sitting on Matt's couch that morning. "He said that Daredevil is a psycho."

"That's tough, man." Was Foggy's response. "But he's worried, you know. For him it looks like someone is hurting his blind child. You must admit, it's hard to think about you as someone, who can defend himself."

"I know. But imagine what he will say, when he will learn the truth." Matt turned to Foggy. "How can I tell my dad that I'm a vigilante? That I'm running around the streets, hitting bad people? He probably will not understand."

"I understood. Eventually." Foggy's voice was calm, but also kind of sad.

"Yes, but first, you were mad with me. And rightfully so." Matt gave a heavy sigh. "This… this is all happening too fast. Too fast, Foggy."

Foggy was silent. Matt suspected that his friend didn't know what to do with this whole situation. At this moment nothing could be more weird than Matt telling his newly resurrected dad about his vigilantism. Even after drugs they wouldn't imagine something more twisted than this predicament.

But not long time ago Foggy was the one who had to deal with sudden reveal of Matt being Daredevil. If anybody could imagine what Jack Murdock could feel after learning the truth, it had to be Foggy. Still, there were enormous differences between Matt's best friend and his father.

"Maybe _I_ could talk with your dad?" Foggy finally broke the silence. "You know, tell him something about you and Daredevil? Prepare him for the reveal."

Matt thought about it for the moment.

"And what would you say?"

"Well, you know me." Matt could practically hear the smirk in his friend's voice. "I will use convincing arguments."

"Foggy, I'm not sure…"

"Let me talk with him." This calm and sad voice again. "Trust me. I know what to do."

Matt was contemplating the offer for another moment. Of course, he trusted Foggy. He trusted him on the courtroom and he trusted him with his own secret. And he decided to trust him with this delicate matter.

"Okay, but don't tell dad that I'm Daredevil. This one I want to tell him myself."

"Of course." Foggy said, but Matt knew there was something else, he wanted to say.

When later his friend left to fulfill his quest, Matt found himself wishing that he didn't tell his father to meet him in the midnight. He needed time. He needed so much time… and he only had couple of hours to mentally prepare himself for this night.

He could lie…

 _Matty, if you're gonna tell me some not very smart lie, there's no use._

But then again, his dad always knew when he was lying.

He could show him, take him on the streets, let him witness the crime being prevented by Daredevil…

 _There are people, who_ _ **remember**_ _you. You were lucky enough that you haven't been recognized by anyone in your block, but how do you know if somebody from your past spotted you on the street?_

But then again, it would be too risky for dad.

How Matt supposed to tell his father this big secret? His dad will be angry, disappointed and hurt. Matt couldn't imagine any other reaction from Jack. Not after all that happened. Not after Jack witnessing Daredevil fighting with thugs. Not after telling his son that he shouldn't fight.

He was only hoping that Foggy will succeed. He will do his best, of that Matt was sure. But will it be enough?

* * *

Foggy was informed by father Lantom that Jack was sitting in the church since breakfast. At first lawyer didn't know if he should come in right now. After all, if Jack was praying, Foggy didn't want to disturb him. But father Lantom assured him that Jack stopped praying long time ago and now he was only thinking about something.

"Tell me, Foggy, Matthew sent you?"

"Yes, but it was my idea." Foggy smiled.

"Is he going to…?" The priest started, but the lawyer cut in:

"Yes, he's going to tell his father about it. But he's very nervous, you know. And afraid."

"I imagine." For a moment father Lantom was silent, obviously contemplating something. Finally he looked at Foggy and said: "I will come with you."

And so they entered the church and directed towards Jack. Foggy sat on boxer's right, while father Lantom sat on his left. At first Jack only looked at them, before going back to observing the altar. Both the lawyer and the priest were silent. Foggy didn't want to be the first to speak, so he waited for Jack or father Lantom to start the conversation. But after three minutes of silence, he grew impatient and started to look for the best way to begin this talk.

He leaned closer to Jack, catching his attention.

"You know, mister Murdock," He whispered. "there is this quote that Matt really likes."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack asked, but he didn't turned to Foggy. "What kind of quote?"

"It's from Thurgood Marshall. He was a first Afroamerican judge in supreme court." The lawyer explained. He then smiled to Jack and added: "The quote goes something like this." He cleared his throat, straightened himself and suddenly got serious. "'There is a price to be paid for division and isolation. Democracy cannot flourish amid hate. Justice cannot root amid rage. We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from fear.'"

Something appeared on Jack's face. The boxer finally looked at Foggy with the expression of some kind of understanding. A realization. A recognition.

"You know, mister Nelson," He began, returning to observing the altar. "I think I've heard it once. From Matty, nonetheless."

Foggy wanted to say: "Really? He was doing it even as a kid?", but he decided that he should move on:

"He was quoting Marshall million times, even when I didn't want to listen. He has a strong sense of justice, you know. And he really wants to help people."

"He always had." Jack gave Foggy a sorrowful look and a melancholic smile. "He was always a good kid."

"I'm sorry, Jack, for bringing this up," Father Lantom cut in, turning boxer's attention on himself. "but do you remember how Matthew lost his sight?"

For a moment Jack was only observing the priest in silence with expression of sadness.

"There is no way I will ever forget how it happened, father." He said finally, calmly, with some kind of resignation in the voice.

Foggy immediately remembered that one time when Matt told him about the accident (to that day Nelson knew only the media version). And the lawyer tried to imagine this accident from Jack's perspective. He tried to imagine a father seeing his nine year old son covered in chemicals. He tried to imagine Jack kneeling beside Matt, telling him to close eyes and attempting to wipe the chemicals with his shirt. He tried to imagine Battlin' Jack Murdock helplessly realizing that his attempts are futile and that his little Matty already can't see. Foggy tried to imagine the horror and utter despair that had to hit him that fateful day. This was all just too visible on the boxer's face.

"Believe me, I'm not mentioning it to hurt you in any way, Jack." Father Lantom continued. "I just want you to recall a certain detail about that event."

"Oh, yeah? Which one?" Jack asked and Foggy could easily detect passive-aggressive tone in his voice. But the priest seemed to not be offended by it.

"I want you to remember what Matthew did right before the accident."

Foggy quickly realized where father Lantom was going with it. And judging by Jack's expression, he also understood. But the look of sudden realization was quickly replaced by sadness.

"Should I be happy about it, father?" Jack whispered. "Should I be happy that Matty can't see, because he saved some old man? It doesn't matter that he did it. It doesn't change anything. He's still blind."

"I'm not saying that." The priest began. "I just want you to remember about it. Because this is important fact, you must never forget about."

"What father Lantom want to say is," Foggy decided to cut in. "Matt have this deeply seeded need to help others." _Even if it might hurt him_ – he added in his mind. "He can't ignore it. He have to help. That's just the way he is."

Another moment of silence. Jack's gaze dropped as he seemed to contemplate Foggy's words. But then he looked the lawyer again and asked:

"But why are you telling me this, mister Nelson?"

Now it was the hard part. Foggy had to put it in the way that won't give Jack any hints for the upcoming reveal. Then again, how much Jack Murdock knew about Daredevil?

"We're only reminding you about certain things." Father Lantom replied, turning Jack's attention on himself. "It's very important that you keep them in mind."

For a couple of seconds it seemed that Matt's dad wanted to say something, but he refrained from it. Instead he gave both men short glances.

"I will keep them in mind." He looked at the cross and added: "I have much to think about. No offence, but I would like to be left alone."

Foggy decided that this was enough. They couldn't say anything more. Now everything depended on Matt.

"Of course." The lawyer said and stood up. Father Lantom did the same soon after. "Good evening, mister Murdock."

They left Jack alone with his thoughts.

* * *

And so the midnight came. Jack was standing in the backside of the church. The night was chilly and a bit windy, but Jack had a hoodie. He was looking around in search of any sign of his son. That was the place Matty told him to come and his boy was late. Jack started to grow impatient… and nervous.

He will finally know Matty's secret – this big secret that neither father Lantom, nor mister Nelson, nor even Matt himself, wanted to tell him. Obviously, after all the things Jack heard from them, he had bad feelings about it.

He had his suspicions, although, he found it hard to believe them. Ever since their meeting on the gym, Jack suspected that the big secret behind Matt's wounds is that he's fighting on some underground ring. It was crazy, really. A blind fighter? It was like something taken from a kung fu movie. But it made sense.

Maybe, in the end, Matty decided to come in his father's steps, even though, Jack tried so hard to prevent it from happening. Then again – it was ridiculous. Matt had his own job, he didn't need another outcome. But at the same time… "Nelson and Murdock" didn't seem to bring many profits. So there was a small possibility that – to keep the firm open for anybody who would need legal help – Matt would be fighting on some underground ring for money. Logical, right? Somehow Jack couldn't find a better theory.

A sound of steps took the boxer out of his thoughts and suddenly in the darkness of the night, illuminated only by the street lanterns, he saw a familiar figure in red jumping from the nearest rooftop to the roof of sacristy, and then landing on the place right in front of Jack. The boxer now could clearly see the famous Daredevil. And for the first few seconds he didn't know what to do.

Why he came here? Was he going to steal something? He kind of looked like thief, but like one of those thieves who want to show off and be famous. But no – he was fighting with thugs, so he wasn't exactly a thief. If Jack had to put his bet on anything, he assumed that Daredevil was more like a vigilante.

Funny. He had a cut on lip in the same place as Matty… Jack quickly shook his head. Where he was getting this weird thoughts?

Daredevil took two steps towards Jack, who – on the other hand – went two steps back and took a fighting stance.

"Don't come near me." He warned.

Daredevil put his hands up in gesture of surrender.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

The voice sounded familiar… No, that was more ridiculous than the underground ring theory.

"Let's come inside." The red figure said. "I'm afraid the light isn't good in here."

"Why do you need a light for?" This was probably a stupid question, but Jack had to hear this voice again, just to be sure.

"I don't need a light. You will be needing it." Daredevil explained.

"Why?" Jack asked.

The mysterious man took a hold of his mask and pulled it off his head, revealing his face.

"To see me better."

In the darkness of the night, illuminated only by street lanterns, Jack saw his son dressed as Daredevil.


	10. Part 10

**Good news - it seems that this fic will have more than 11 chapters.**

 **Bad news - Although, there is a little scene I want to put in next installment, I'm not sure about the general plot, so I'm open for suggestions.**

 **Edit: Nevermind, I have some idea. *laughs evilly***

 **Part 10**

First there was a disbelief. Jack thought that it was some kind of a joke. He remembered his first encounter with Daredevil – the mysterious red figure in the night, quickly disarming few thugs and climbing up the fire escape after putting his opponents out of action.

Obviously his Matty couldn't pull off all the stunts the boxer saw Daredevil doing the other night. This was a level of agility human body could muster after years of training. And there was no way someone could do all those things, while not seeing the opponents…

But Matt came here jumping off the rooftop. His movements were natural, it was obviously something Matt did many times. Jack remembered also the moment in the gym, when he saw Matty's muscles.

Looking at Matt, Jack saw the uncertainly and tension on his face. The boxer remembered Daredevil getting a cut on his lower lip. Jack recalled also the conversation Matty and father Lantom had a morning after.

 _Now, you look like you've had a rough night. Confession?_

 _Confession…_

He remembered mister Nelson's hesitation, when Jack asked him about Matt's bruises; and what he said later.

 _Matt is stronger than you suspect…_

He remembered things both father Lantom and mister Nelson told him that morning.

 _What father Lantom want to say is, Matt have this deeply seeded need to help others. He can't ignore it. He have to help. That's just the way he is…_

 _We're only reminding you about certain things. It's very important that you keep them in mind…_

"You wanted to know why I have a black eye." He heard his son saying. "This is why, dad."

Jack looked at him. Matt was waiting for his response and seemed uneasy. Was it possible that the man hitting armed thugs in the alley; and his son – a blind man, who worked as a lawyer – were one and the same person?

"Dad, please, say something."

No, no, it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Matty was a sweet, harmless kid, who's best skill was his brilliant mind. Jack was the one doing fighting. Matt had to work with his head. That was the order of things. The right order. Blind people shouldn't fight, they weren't _meant_ to fight. Especially Matt.

Yet it seemed that his gentle, harmless Matty really _was_ Daredevil.

"Dad, I know, it's sudden," His son began. "but, please, say something."

Jack was silent. There was million things he wanted to say in that very moment, but he didn't know, which one should be first.

A sudden thought hit him. A thought that pierced through his skull and blossomed in his mind, all at once, making everything so clear.

To this moment he considered his son as someone defenseless, unable to fight. Even this little underground ring theory seemed kind of far-fetched to Jack. It was because – to his father – not long time ago Matty was just a nine year old blind boy. Even though, Matt was an adult, Jack saw him as a child he left in his apartment to fight with Creel. He assumed that his son was attacked by someone, but Jack didn't even put into consideration that he could fight back. After all, it was just his little, blind Matty. How could his little Matty hit someone? It _had to_ be that someone else was hitting _him_.

And Jack still had hard time admitting it about himself. He looked at his son and observed him for a little longer. The boxer decided to make his move. He had to be sure…

He abruptly approached Matt, put up his fist and directed it towards his son's face. He didn't use much force, just enough to make an illusion of attempted assault with his right hook. And it worked. With one hand, Matt blocked the attack.

Once the illusion of poor, defenseless Matt was shuttered into pieces, Jack found himself facing another realization. His son's expression showed hurt and betrayal. Jack just assaulted his son. He raised his hand against his little Matty. He never did that before. It didn't matter that Matt wasn't as defenseless as he originally looked or that Jack didn't use much force. It all must have looked like Jack – _his own father_ – wanted to harm him.

"I guess, it was too early, after all." Matt whispered and it hurt how heartbroken he sounded.

Jack put his hand down. Matt made two steps back.

"I'm sorry." The boxer said. "I didn't want to harm you, Matty. I just had to… check something."

"Oh…" Matt raised his eyebrows and smiled sheepishly. "I see." But he didn't seem to find comfort in his father's words.

Suddenly the implications of Matty being vigilante hit Jack with full force. His son was coming out at night and making his own justice. He was using brute force to fight with armed criminals. He could get caught by police, or worse – killed. He could also kill someone. Who knows – maybe he already did…

"Let's sit on the bench and talk." Matt suggested. "I have a lot to explain."

The back door to sacristy was opened and father Lantom showed at the porch.

"How about you two come inside?" He asked. "If you stay a little longer, someone will find out about both of your secrets."

Jack looked at Matt, who's mask was still off. But even if he took it back on, it was very dangerous to talk outside.

And so the rest of the conversation between Jack and Matt (father Lantom decided to left them alone) happened in the sacristy. His son told him everything. He told him about how he got into orphanage and how his senses started to get stronger; he told him about Stick, who taught Matt how to use those suddenly enhanced senses, trained him in fighting and left him, when the kid showed affection to his mentor; he told him about the pedophile father abusing his daughter, who pushed Matt to become vigilante; he told him about how he had one rule, one rule that must be obeyed, even though, there was a time, when Matt really wanted to break it – a rule that he couldn't kill.

When he finished, he seemed calm, but there was uncertainty in his eyes. Obviously Matty waited for what his father was going to say about the whole thing. Jack was confused, although, he comprehended everything perfectly. There was so much emotions crowding in him, he didn't know what to feel. This was all so wrong…

"How could you?" Jack whispered, breaking the silence that fell upon them for couple of seconds.

"Dad…" Matt began, but his father cut in:

"You've done many reckless things as a child, but _this_? This is just too much."

"Dad, you don't understand…"

"Oh, I perfectly understand! You think, you can happily run around in that costume and punch criminals, doing work for the police! You think that few hits here and there will solve all the problems in this world!"

"I'm not saying that! I never said that!"

Jack stood up abruptly.

"It's not how I've raised you, Matthew Murdock! You were supposed to use your head, not muscles!"

 _You were supposed to be better than me…_

"And I'm doing it, dad," Matt said in calm, but a bit shaky voice. "but if I want to make a difference, I have to use force too." Jack could clearly see a shades of anger in his movements and expression, nevertheless Matt tried to remain calm. "You don't hear what I can hear. You don't hear all the pleading for help. All the things people are doing to each other."

"And this gives you permission to dress up like a devil and hit them?! It's police duty to bring order, not yours. As a lawyer, you should know it."

This time Matt didn't hide his agitation.

"And you should know that police isn't always honest. Especially in Hell's Kitchen."

"Your place is on the courtroom, not on the streets."

This time it was Matt, who stood up.

"Don't tell me where is my place! I perfectly know where it is and where it is not! I know what I have to do! If you think that I will, just like that, let bad things happen to good people, you're wrong! And I really hope you will understand it one day, because I'm not planning on stopping now!"

Jack was observing him. Matt looked like he was on the verge of flipping the table and the boxer thought that he never in his life would suspect that his son could be so angry. But there was also something else. Something in his eyes mixing with the anger. And it was hurt, even bigger than the one Matty expressed, when Jack attacked him.

Of course, he will continue to be Daredevil. He was Murdock. When Murdocks really put their mind on something, they could go to extreme lengths to accomplish it. Jack knew it more than anybody. But it didn't change the way, he was feeling right now.

He slowly raised from his seat and said with the most cold and disapproval voice, he could muster at this moment:

"I'm disappointed in you, Matty." He then directed towards the exit, adding: "Now, excuse me. I'm tired. In the meantime, you try not to get killed."

And he left, too agitated to even say "bye".

He knew he won't be sleeping that night, not after all he learned. He will be lying on the bed, recalling this conversation, on and on, and, at the same time, thinking about what his reckless son was doing. Jack knew he will be angry with Matty, but also worried off his mind over him.

* * *

The next day, in the morning, Matt decided to go to the gym. He had to let off some steam before coming to work. So now he was furiously hitting the punching bag, remembering the confrontation with his dad.

He got his father back only yesterday and after all that happened, it seemed that he lost him again. Not because of gunshot in the head, but because of his own stupidity. He should have waited a little longer, he should have let his dad get accustomed to Daredevil doing his thing on the streets, he should have keep his old man in the dark.

 _I wanted to think what to do with the bastard, who is hurting you._

On the other hand, Jack insisted so much on finding the truth that Matt thought at that time he didn't have a choice, but to reveal himself. Remembering the night when Foggy found out about his secret, Matt tried to justify his actions, make a point of why he was doing all those things… but he also was prepared for every possible negative reaction. Still, as much as he expected to hear berating and anger, his father's words hurt him.

 _How could you?_

 _It's not how I've raised you, Matthew Murdock! You were supposed to use your head, not muscles!_

 _I'm disappointed in you, Matty._

Matt hit the punching bag so hard his knuckles started to hurt. He took a hold of it and started to cry the tears of anger. These words hurt him even more than the fact that Jack attacked him. As much as the attack was unexpected and directed towards Matt's face, of all places, he knew that his dad held himself back. The words, on the other hand, punched Matt in the gut and pierced through his heart.

They could do so much together, now when his father was alive again. And in one night all those plans for those father-son activities, he was so eagerly waiting to do, were destroyed. It was like Foggy finding out about the mask all over again. Nothing will be the same. In fact, it was uncertain if everything will turn out good ever again. Another valuable relationship in Matt's life was dangling on the string and Matt wasn't certain if it could be ever fixed. He felt the same sadness, hurt and regret like that night with Foggy.

But Foggy came back. They both knew they won't go back to what was before, but Foggy didn't find Daredevil a terrorist anymore, he was going to help Matt and he wanted to rebuild their relationship. And that was more than Matt could ever hoped for. So maybe there was a chance that his dad will understand and forgive him too.

" _Foggy, Foggy, Foggy…_ " His cell phone announced.

Matt wiped his tears and pick up.

" _Where are you, man?_ " His friend asked.

"On the gym." Matt said, painfully aware that his voice was still shaken of all the emotions.

" _Right. So I guess, it didn't go very well._ " Foggy commented.

"I think, I'm officially disowned." Matt tried to turn it into joke, but he knew the attempt was futile.

" _I'm sorry, Matt._ " There was a short moment of silence on the other side of the line. Matt suspected that Foggy was contemplating what else he should say… or just didn't know what else he could say in that situation. And when Matt thought that his friend will change the subject, suddenly he spoke again: " _Should I try to talk with him again?_ "

"I'm not sure if the first time gave us anything, Foggy." Matt sat up and gave a sigh. "I screwed it. Big time."

And he proceeded with reporting what happened last night. He had to tell about it and he knew that his friend will listen.

" _As a person who also was mad at you for turning out to be a vigilante,_ " Foggy began, when Matt finished. " _I would like to say that everything will be fine. Give your old man time. He have to think some things through._ "

"Yeah, I figured. But, just in case, I will stay away from dad for a little while. And you should do it too."

" _Well then, when you come to work?_ " Foggy decided to change the subject.

Matt thought about it for a moment. Actually he wasn't as upset as earlier. Maybe he will manage to be calm for the rest of the day…

So he told Foggy he will be in the office soon and hung up the phone.

* * *

Meanwhile on the parish, Jack Murdock was lying flat on his bed and observing the ceiling. His predictions had been confirmed – he didn't sleep the previous night at all. Combining the news about Matty's secret identity and the disturbing mystery behind Jack's resurrection, the sleepless night was almost guaranteed. He felt even more lost than earlier.

Recalling the previous conversation with his son, Jack started to regret few things he said to him. He could still see Matty, angry, and sad, and oh, so determined…

 _Dad, you don't understand…_

 _And you should know that police isn't always honest. Especially in Hell's Kitchen…_

 _Don't tell me where is my place! I perfectly know where it is and where it is not! I know what I have to do! If you think that I will, just like that, let bad things happen to good people, you're wrong! And I really hope you will understand it one day, because I'm not planning on stopping now!_

But Jack knew he had to say it. Because what else he could say to his stubborn and hot-headed son? "It's okay, you can go out and beat up criminals."? "I will support your choice, even if it mean you will one day get yourself killed."? "Fine, you can be a vigilante, but don't forget the sweater and come back before dinner."?

Of course, he was also recalling all the things Matt told him about himself. Living in the orphanage, trained by some Spartan-obsessed asshole to be a soldier, then spending all those years listening to people getting hurt and hurting others… no wonder his Matty had to grow up fast.

 _You've raised him well, Jack. He's a good man, who wants to do what's right. That's all, you have to know…_

 _He has a strong sense of justice, you know. And he really wants to help people…_

Yes, Matty always had a sense of justice. He always wanted to do what was right. And lying there, in his temporary bed, Jack remembered something else. That night, before the fight with Creel, Matty had read something to him.

 _There is a price to be paid for division and isolation. Democracy cannot flourish amid hate. Justice cannot root amid rage. We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from fear._

Until the previous night, Jack thought that his son was just a quiet, peaceful blind man, working as a _bona fide_ lawyer with his best friend. Last night Jack was confronted with other, more dark side of Matt. This side was scary and disturbing, and some part of Jack wished he stayed ignorant about it.

What else he could find out about Matt? What other horrible truths waited for him to be revealed?


	11. Part 11

**Part 11**

For the next couple of days Jack was sitting in the parish. He was trying to occupy himself with various tasks – either helping with the household, or reading books in father Lantom's little library. He even found in the Bible the story about Lazarus ( _John, chapter 11._ Father Lantom prompted him. _But you can read the whole book, if you will feel like it._ ), and he once read the article about Daredevil leading police to the cocaine cartel. Nevertheless, for the most part he was just sitting in his bedroom and thinking.

Maybe he should be thinking about his current predicament (after all, he still didn't know what brought him here), but he was focusing on his son. Even if he started to think about other things, he was always coming back to Matty – to him being Daredevil, to their last encounter, to their life before the fight with Creel and before Jack's death. Memories – good and bad, old and new – were spinning in the boxer's head, but there was one that was coming back to him the most.

 _It burns…_

Where did he go wrong? Well, from rational stand point it wasn't his fault at all, this was just how Matty was and Jack had been dead for twenty years, so he hadn't much influence on his son, whatsoever… But he felt like this was all his fault. All those lectures about Matt using his head, not fists, all those things Jack tried so hard to teach his little boy just weren't enough. In the end he didn't prevented his son from becoming just like him.

Why Matt couldn't be just an attorney? Why he had to go out at night and be a vigilante? Of course, deep inside, Jack knew the answer. He was acknowledging the truth. All the reasons behind Matty's actions… they weren't incomprehensive to him. Still, it was his Matty! His little Matty!

Correction – it was Matt Murdock, attorney at law and fearsome Daredevil. This was the man Jack's little Matty grew up to be. Brilliant, stubborn, kind, always eager to do what is right, Matty became that man. Those two persons were different, but Jack could easily spot the boy's traits that was carried on by the man.

The boxer felt various emotions – he was angry at Matt for his double life, he was sad because he couldn't do anything about it… and he was feeling like a bad father. Jack could still see Matt's heartbroken expression, when he attacked his son. This shocking realization that his own parent was going to punch him. Jack regretted this action. No matter how plausible it seemed at the time, he felt he shouldn't do it. He didn't want to be that kind of abusive bastard, who regularly hits his child. The place of the devil was on the ring, not in home. And yet, he listened to the devil and hit his son.

But there was one emotion stronger than shame and regret he felt. No matter how angry, sad or guilty he felt, there was one feeling overwhelming all of them. This feeling was making him uneasy, sleepless and tense. In the end, it was all coming back to that one feeling.

* * *

In times like these Matt was glad that he had a body armor. It was five am and he was fighting. The man he was fighting with, sounded heavy, as well as his attacks. His opponent was punching and kicking like there was no tomorrow and at this point Daredevil knew the man was hitting blindly only to finish his enemy with a brute force. The vigilante managed to deflect most of the hits and lay few of his own, but he was mostly avoiding them, trying to get his opponent exhausted. The guy was tough, Matt had to admit it, but he was just a guy in a leather, fighting with his fists. And he was slowly getting tired.

In the middle of the battle a sudden thought crossed Daredevil's mind. A funny thought, actually. He was standing there, taking and dodging the punches, and it kind of looked like one of his father's fights. Battlin' Jack Murdock could take a lot of punishment, but he was never knocked out and many of his opponents were comparing punching him to hitting an oak – you could punch all day, but it will be standing still, while your hands start to hurt more and more…

This thought made Matt remember that his dad was now mad with him and the vigilante felt a little sad…

This all was enough to distract Matt and soon he felt a hit at his abdomen – a one, sudden punch on his left side, like the guy wanted to deep his fist into him. The force was so hard that even though Matt was wearing a protective suit, he felt the impact and tripped over a garbage can behind him.

But he managed to stand up and returned to fighting. His left side hurt, and he knew there will be a really nasty bruise later, however, he had more important things to do right now.

* * *

Upon coming back home, he suddenly realized how tired he was. He quickly changed and went to bed. But he couldn't sleep. Partly because of the irritating, throbbing pain in his left side, and partly because there was too much on his head.

His mind was constantly coming back to this horrible night. The night that was supposed to be the greatest night in his father's boxing career. Matt could still hear the announcer's voice claiming that Battlin' Jack Murdock defeated Creel; he could still hear the crown cheering "Murdock, Murdock!"; and he could still hear the gunshot, waking him up. He remembered all the sensations – dread, the coldness of the night, the policeman, who was standing at the crime scene, his father's lifeless body lying in front of Matt… and finally the pattern of face that confirmed boy's worst suspicions…

 _Daddy!_

Not long time ago, he could feel this face once again. And at that moment Matt couldn't be more happy. His father came back from dead, he was here, with his son, like this horrible night never happened, like there was no gunshot in the darkness taking away Battlin' Jack Murdock from his son. They've got a second chance.

Of course, they also had to find out how it was possible, Matt never forgot about that. He was worried – worried that his dad's resurrection was only temporary and soon Jack will become corpse once again, or that the one, who resurrected him, did it with ill intentions in mind.

But they've got a second chance. And Matt wished to use this chance. Could anybody blame him? The problem was that after what happened, Matt wondered if his father will ever talk to him again. During this few days since the reveal, Matt missed him so much. He even wanted to visit him on the parish, or just call to father Lantom and ask few questions. But he was scared that he won't be welcomed.

Suddenly a realization hit him. It was Sunday. In two hours or so, according to his predictions, there will be a morning service in father Lantom's church. How about going on some mass, huh? It was a nice excuse to come on a parish and pay a visit to his dad. Yes, if Matt came a few minutes earlier, they would be able to talk in private, without witnesses. Maybe his dad thought about the situation and wasn't mad with him anymore. Matt had to try, but he was scared of Jack's reaction.

* * *

 _It burns…_

Jack once again found himself sitting on the church bench, observing the crucified Christ and thinking. He wanted to enjoy the silence and solitude until people start to gather on the morning mass. Empty churches always seemed to be more monumental and more quiet. A man could just sit there and listen. Sometimes, in this oddly soothing silence he could also hear God whispering to him.

Feeling the atmosphere of the church before mass, the boxer couldn't help but remember how he was coming here every Sunday with Matty. There were times when his son didn't want to go on the service and sit whole hour through sermon. But Jack was always telling him this is important. Because Jack wanted to thank God for giving him strength for another fight. Because he wanted to ask Him for the same in next battle. Because there was always something to thank God and to ask Him about.

After the accident Jack was praying more than ever. He was praying in the hospital and in the house. He was trying to remember every possible prayer his mother taught him. There were times when he doubted it was even effective, but a large part of him kept telling him that they will get through it. Murdocks were always getting up. He had to remind Matty about it, but he also had to remember it himself. Because if either one of them forgot about this simple truth, this accident will crash Matt and Jack's boy will never move on.

The sound of someone's steps accompanied by tapping, turned Jack's attention away from his gloomy thoughts. He looked back and saw Matt slowly walking in the middle of the church. The lawyer winced, he was in pain of some sort. He even massaged his left side before coming to Jack's bench, making sign of cross. Matt carefully sat and slowly neared to his father. The boxer was observing him for a moment, not saying anything. Matt's face, on the other hand, was directed at the space in front of him. Jack knew that his son didn't exactly _see_ the altar, but it looked like he was actually watching it.

"Hi, dad." He whispered, breaking the silence.

"Hi, Matty." Jack replied.

Matt gave a hiss and massaged his left side once again.

"Rough night?" The boxer asked.

"It's only a bruise. I will live."

There was another moment of silence as two Murdocks were sitting beside each other on the church bench. Matt wanted to say something, but he was hesitating. Jack could see it on his face. He didn't push it.

"Are you still mad?" His son finally said.

For a couple of seconds Jack was speechless. What he should respond to that? He gave a heavy sigh.

"Matty," The boxer began. "I hope you will one day have a son of your own. When he will start to do something reckless – and trust me, he will – you will understand what I feel."

"I've tried to be that man, you wanted me to be." Matt replied. A sudden tone of determination and aggravation was present in his voice, as he continued: "I've tried to use my head, not fists. I've never forgot about anything you taught me." He winced, but went on: "You must understand that I'm not doing all of this to disrespect you, dad. I'm doing it, because I can't ignore what is happening in Hell's Kitchen right now."

 _Dad! Dad, I can't see!_

Jack closed his eyes trying to banish away the painful memory. After a moment, he looked at Matt and said:

"You can do it as an attorney. Isn't it why you went to a law school in the first place?"

This time it was Matt who gave a sigh.

"I can't believe we have this conversation again." His hands started to nervously ran up and down the handle of his cane. "Look, I know I'm balancing on the edge…"

"That's not the point, Matty." Jack cut in.

Matt seemed to be surprised by his father's words.

"Then what is it?" He asked.

Jack was silent. He wanted to tell him about everything what was crowding in his head for past few days. But how he was going to explain all of it in a way that Matty would understand?

Suddenly Matt shook his head and asked:

"I'm sorry, could you repeat?" He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't say anything, Matty."

"Well, I guess, it's just the sleep deprivation. Look, dad, I didn't come here to argue." Matt put the cane aside and turned to his father. He smiled nervously. "I was just wondering if we could, you know… have a dinner or something…"

Jack raised his eyebrows. A dinner? That sounded like something normal fathers and sons were doing – having a family dinner. They're eating, and joking, and talking about ordinary stuff, sharing their experiences, and telling anecdotes, and just being fathers and sons… The idea itself was something unexpected, but apparently Matt wished to bring some normality to their weird situation. And, honestly, Jack wanted it too. This night in pizzeria was wonderful. Jack many times wanted to repeat it.

Suddenly the boxer felt a warmth on his hand. When he looked down, he saw that Matt was squishing it tenderly.

"I miss you, dad."

Jack smiled and said:

"Dinner sounds good. You still like burritos?"

Matt chuckled.

"Only if you'll be the one making them."

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to do anything in parish kitchen. Last time I've got shooed away."

Another chuckle escaped Matt's mouth, but it was cut by a hiss of pain. Jack noticed how his son touched his left side again.

"Matty," The boxer began. "trust the guy that was hit a lot: if a minor injury hurts more than it should, it's not minor."

Matt didn't say anything. He only leaned his back on the bench, his hand still on the left side, like he was examining it. Jack could see by the grimace on his face that Matt was in much pain. The lawyer was just sitting there, his blank stare directed toward whatever was in front of him.

"Matty, do you hear me?" Jack asked. "You need to go to the hospital."

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose again, like he was trying to focus, but had some difficulties with it. The more Jack was observing him, the more disturbed he felt. Of course, Matt said it was sleep deprivation. Still, there was something wrong with his son, and the boxer didn't need to have a an extended medical knowledge to see it.

Matt put his glasses back, took the cane and slowly, with much difficulty stood up.

"We will talk about the dinner later, okay, dad?"

"Of course, Matty." Jack also stood up and followed his son. "But, please, go to the hospital with this wound. And get some sleep."

"Yes, yes." Matt waved his hand dismissingly. "I can take care of myself, dad."

Touching the bench with the tips of his fingers, like he wanted to support himself with its presence, he started to walk away. But the moment he stood in the middle of the church, he suddenly collapsed. White cane fell on the floor alongside his owner, who's body hit the ground with loud thud. A short scream of pain escaped Matt's mouth. Quickly it was followed by another one, and another.

"Matty!" Jack abruptly ran to his side and bent over him.

Now his son's face was expressing not just pain, but agony. And in this horrible moment Jack once again remembered this fateful day…

 _It burns…_

"Hang on, Matty."

Jack wanted to pick him up and hold him like back then. Matt, on the other hand, was crawling in pain, breathing heavily, before he finally lost his consciousness.

* * *

 **Special thanks to Comical Epiphanies for giving me ideas and for the expertese.**

 **I was rewriting this chapter many times. Originally, I was planning to add there scene with Claire, and as much as I liked it, it would just make the climax of this part impossible (bacause Claire is too smart and Foggy would totally be like: "Come on, Murdock. Move your ass, we're going to the hospital."). I also took some liberties with what Comical Epiphanies had told me about this certain injury.**


	12. Part 12

**I'm starting to think that this fic gets boring. Is it boring?**

 **Meanwhile, I have this idea for a father Lanotm multi-chapter fanfic.**

 **Part 12**

Father Lantom ran out of the sacristy as soon as he heard the screams of pain. In the middle of the church he saw Jack bending over unconscious Matthew.

"What happened?" The priest asked, turning Jack's attention on himself.

"I-I don't know…" He said, but suddenly a realization crossed his face. The boxer turned back on his son and pressed Matthew's left side with two fingers. Only then he looked at the priest with the expression of shock and said: "I think… I'm not a doctor or anything, but I think… it might be an internal bleeding."

For a moment father Lantom wondered how Jack would know it since he was just a boxer, but then the priest realized that there was no time for it. He drew out the cell phone from his pocket and called an ambulance. He told the woman in emergency center about a young man lying unconscious in his church, probably from internal bleeding on his left side, and instructed her about where they were right now. Once she assured him that the ambulance was on its way to them, father Lantom disconnected and turned to Jack.

"You will have to hide, when the paramedics arrive."

"What?! No!" The boxer protested.

"I understand how are you feeling, but we were talking about this. Nobody can't know that you're alive, Jack."

"So what?" The man stood up, looking at the priest. "I will just sit here, when my son will be fighting for life in the hospital? No way! I'm going with you!"

Father Lantom observed him for a moment. There was a determination in these blue eyes, but also something else – a pleading. Like Jack was silently begging the priest to let him come to the hospital. Of course, if the circumstances were different, father Lantom would gladly do it. He would let the worried parent to assist his wounded child. And the more he was looking into these blue eyes, begging him for this small favor, the more he found himself leaning towards it. He wasn't made of stone, after all… Maybe there was some way to let Jack go with his son, without compromising his identity to people who could recognize him.

Suddenly father Lantom got an idea. He couldn't believe he got it only now, but he guessed that God decided to send him illumination, when the illumination was desperately needed. And so the priest told Jack to wait and he quickly went to the parish. There he started to browse through the cupboards in his bedroom.

He remembered perfectly that it should be there. When one of his parishioners gave it to him back in 2008, the priest only smiled, appreciating the concern, but he thought it wasn't necessary. He didn't know exactly why he kept it. Maybe just in case that this man's concerns would turn out real? Nevertheless, now this little item would be finally useful.

"Aha!" He found it.

And soon father Lantom gave Jack a protective mask.

"If someone ask, you're afraid of germs, Jack."

For a moment the boxer was observing the mask, then he put up his gaze and looked at the priest with astonishment. Suddenly his expression softened and he smiled with gratefulness.

"Thank you, father."

He put the mask on. Few seconds later the paramedics arrived and carefully took the unconscious Matthew to the ambulance.

* * *

The doctor said that Matt had an injured spleen, and so he was now operated. Soon Jack and father Lantom were joined by mister Nelson, who – according to the nurse – figurated as the first person to contact whenever Matt was admitted to hospital (Jack quickly understood why – after all, his son didn't have any close relatives to take care of him. But it was really saying something about Matt's relationship with his best friend, if he put so much trust into Foggy…). Miss Page came too. Explaining to her why her blind employer had now a spleen surgery, proved to be really tricky. Father Lantom decided to just play dumb (and it wasn't like he knew _exactly_ why Matt was hurt, so even if he wasn't bound by the secret of confession and such, he probably couldn't say much).

"I don't know how it happened. I've heard Matthew's scream and found him unconscious on the floor."

Jack wanted to add something, like: "We were talking and he seemed to be in pain.", or: "I told him to go to the hospital with this wound." But he stayed silent. At this moment he rather preferred to be invisible to miss Page. After all, last time when she saw him, he fled from "Nelson and Murdock". Not to mention that – to her – he had no reason to be there. So he was just sitting there quietly, trying to not caught anybody's attention on himself.

Sitting in the waiting room, Jack couldn't shake the impression of _dejavu_. Every view, sound and smell, every feeling he felt in his heart, were reminding him of that day. The fact that the surgery seemed to take forever. The fact that not long time ago, he has been bending over Matty, who was in pain. The fact that Jack was so utterly scared and worried.

But he knew it wasn't the same. Back then he knew that Matt won't be okay after what happened to him. The doctor specifically informed him that his son will never see again, so any kind of hope the boxer had for a happy ending was taken away from him. Now… now there was a possibility that – even though, Matty's injuries were serious – he will get out of it just fine.

Also the persons, who were waiting for any news about Matt's condition, were different. Back then there were this old man his boy saved from the accident, Jack's trainer and few of Murdock boys' neighbors. Now, there were people Matt knew and cared about deeply; and these people knew and cared about him back. There was something reassuring in that thought.

Jack started to rub his hands nervously. Back then he also did this gesture a couple of times. His memory quickly skipped to the flashback when he was sitting in the hospital room, the unconscious Matty lying in the bed, his eyes covered with bondage. Jack quickly remembered how helpless he felt back then. In reality the helplessness was the most horrible thing about this whole situation. There was no way to cure Matt's eyes, even if Jack was going to fight with all the Hell's Kitchen boxers and let them beat him to pulp for money. The only thing he could do was sitting there, right beside his son and make him feel less scared, less sad, less lonely… and helping him get through this mess, even though he himself didn't know back then if he was able to do it.

"Okay, people." Mister Nelson's voice took Jack out of his gloomy thoughts. "Since we will probably sit here for a little while, maybe I will go to the vending machine and get us all something to eat?"

"Good idea." Miss Page said and drew out the wallet from her purse. "I haven't eaten today, so could you buy me a snickers?"

"Certainly." Foggy smiled.

"I will pass." Said father Lantom. "I don't even know what you can get here."

"How about you, mister Battle?"

It took Jack a moment to realize that the lawyer was talking to him. The boxer turned to the younger man.

"Oh…" He began and looked down. "No, no, I don't want anything. But thank you, mister Nelson."

That was enough for miss Page to look at Jack with surprise. She probably already realized that the man in the protective mask was Jack Battle. Father Lantom decided to add that "Nelson and Murdock's" almost-client was in the church too, waiting for morning mass. That information made the secretary look at the boxer with suspicion, nevertheless, she didn't say anything about it. She only turned to her other employer and told him:

"Please, hurry up, Foggy. I'm starving."

It was apparent that mister Nelson didn't know if he should go or stay. But after exchanging a meaningful looks with father Lantom, he decided to finally leave. Once the lawyer was out of her sight, Karen sat next to Jack, making him sweat.

"So" She began. "you were there when Matt fainted?"

"Yes." Jack said and even nodded. "We both were waiting for the mass to start." A sudden urge, probably caused by the woman's piercing look, ordered him to add: "He… mister Murdock, I mean… seemed to be in pain. I've told him to go to hospital, but he said, he'll be fine. Then he fell down and fainted."

Another suspicious look on miss Page's part. Then her expression softened and she smiled friendly to the boxer.

"Can I ask you something irrelevant to this accident, mister Battle?"

Jack looked at father Lantom, who only shrugged. A bit nervously the boxer turned to the woman and smiled sheepishly.

"What exactly?"

"This thing you've come to us." She started, still smiling. "What was that?"

"Oh…" Jack tried to avoid her gaze, thinking about some kind of excuse. Finally he looked at his son's secretary, shot her another nervous smile and said: "Well, it's… it's nothing, really, miss Page."

Somehow her smile became even more sympathetic as she put her hand on his.

"I can assure you, mister Battle, that whatever it is, you will be always welcome in 'Nelson and Murdock' to discuss the matter. We'll be happy to represent you."

Jack was happy that she decided to settle for this approach. It seemed that she was finding him lost and scared of something.

Maybe she had something else to say, but mister Nelson returned and gave her the snickers bar. For a couple of minutes all four of them were sitting there. Soon father Lantom told them that he couldn't stay any longer, because he had to provide the morning service for parishioners.

"But I will ask my lambs to pray for Matthew." He said. "And I will try to come back later."

"Of course, father." Mister Nelson replied. "We will call you, if there will be any news."

"Thank you, Foggy." The priest smiled weakly.

Before he left, he discreetly rested his hand on Jack's shoulder, probably to reassure the man that everything will be fine. And when the priest shot them one last glance, the boxer couldn't help but notice an apologetic expression in his eyes. Like the old shepherd thought that Matt's friends and father would think of him less, because he was leaving so suddenly. (It was ridiculous, really. After all, father Lantom was the one, who called the ambulance and he stayed here as much as he could, considering his duties. He shouldn't feel sorry for it.)

Jack didn't know how long they were waiting in silence and worry, but he suspected it was an hour or so. Finally the surgeon came out of the surgery room and approached them. He stopped in front of mister Nelson and explained that they've managed to stabilize mister Murdock's condition, but he will have to stay in the hospital for couple of days and rest. The blood in the spleen has to clot itself. So they will give Matt antibiotics at least for two weeks. Other than that, he will be fine.

While mister Nelson was filling the hospital formalities and miss Page was calling to father Lantom to tell him the news, Jack slowly approached Matt's hospital room. His son was still unconscious. For a moment Jack didn't see an adult man, lying in hospital bed, but a nine year old boy with bandaged eyes.

 _I can't see!_

 _Matty… Matty, it's me. It's dad. I'm right here._

The boxer came closer and sat on the chair, his eyes still focused on Matt. He even took off his protection mask.

 _I-I can't see…_

 _You were in accident, you remember? You're in a hospital. I'm right here with you…_

He reached his son's hand and squished it.

 _Everything's so loud…_

 _I'm right here with you. It's daddy. Here, feel my face…_

He could still feel little hands running down his face. He could still remember how scared Matt seemed to be… and how terrified Jack felt, seeing it.

 _I'm right here. I'm right here with you._

 _I-I-I can't see._

 _It's okay…_

 _Dad, I can't see._

 _It's alright. It's alright, Matty…_

He almost expected from Matt to wake up and say the same words. Even few weeks after the accident the boy was sometimes screaming them in his sleep. And Jack was always doing the same thing as that night in the hospital – coming at his son's side, letting him feel dad's face under his fingers and hear the lie that everything is alright.

And sometimes during those sleepless nights Jack started to think about the accident. He was recalling himself walking through the crash site and trying to comprehend what happened, why it happened and where in this whole mess was Matty. In the chaos of vehicles and toxic waste lying around he was trying to find his son.

 _Your boy, he pushed me out of the way. He saved my life._

Jack carefully moved a few forelocks off Matt's forehead. He gave a soft sigh. His boy seemed to be so peaceful in his sleep, but the boxer knew perfectly well it was a temporal state and it won't last for long.

 _You don't hear what I can hear. You don't hear all the pleading for help. All the things people are doing to each other…_

Suddenly he felt someone's hand on his shoulder, when he looked up, he saw mister Nelson giving him a sympathetic smile. Then the lawyer turned his gaze on his friend.

"Knowing Matt, we will have to find some way to restrain him."

Jack didn't reply. He looked at his son and was silent for couple of seconds. When mister Nelson spoke again, his voice was more serious:

"You know, mister Murdock, I'm always worried about him. Of course, he's more capable of taking care of himself, when it comes to combat… and there is this chick that always patches him up in the middle of the night… but I'm still worried."

For a short moment he wasn't saying anything. When Jack looked at him, mister Nelson was just staring at his unconscious friend with expression of sadness and resignation. The lawyer gave a soft sigh and continued:

"Sometimes I have to try to imagine what it's like to be him. Hearing what he's hearing all day long. As I said earlier, he has a strong sense of justice. If something bad is happening, he can't ignore it."

 _It burns…_

"I know." Jack whispered. He slowly stood up, turned to the lawyer and asked: "Mister Nelson, do you know what happened to the old man, who was rescued by Matty?"

Foggy was thinking for a moment about the answer, like he was trying to remember something, but then he shrugged and said:

"I'm sorry. I don't know. But I don't think he's alive anymore. He was somewhere around his eighties, when the accident happened."

"I see." Jack gave him another sad look. "Will you stay with him?"

"Of course, that's what I was going to do." Mister Nelson replied.

"I think I should go back to the parish." The boxer explained. "If I stay a little longer, there is a chance that somebody recognize me."

"I understand." The lawyer smiled sympathetically.

"Besides," Jack's expression became serious. "there's something I have to do, before I will come back here."

"May I ask what is that?" Foggy inquired, still smiling.

Jack put the mask on and replied:

"I have to go to confession."

And without further ado, he left the room.


	13. Part 13

**First off, I've made a trailer for this fic. Check out "The greatest achievement - fanfiction trailer" on YouTube.**

 **I had a problem with that chapter, because after I've written the confession part I didn't know what should be next. But I managed to solve this problem, although, I also received some really good prompts, I'm gonna use in the future.**

 **Okay, people, I have something to say. For some time I want this fic to reach 100 reviews. I'm not pressing you or anything, but I would appreciate everyone, who would like to participate in reaching that goal. (Especially because I'm starting to worry that latest chapters wasn't on the level of brilliance of the earlier ones.)**

 **Part 13**

Father Lantom entered the confessional. He could hear Jack taking the seat on the other side; and he could see through the barred window, how the boxer rested his hand nervously on the kneels.

The priest was going to come to the hospital, when Jack came back from there and started to insist on confession. Once he realized what father Lantom's original plans were, he apologized, moved aside and said that he can wait, until the time will be more suitable. However, one look at the boxer was enough for father Lantom to change his mind. Foggy and miss Page were probably with Matthew anyway, so father Lantom could afford to come a little late.

Jack, on the other hand, needed that confession.

Now, in the confessional booth, the old shepherd was waiting for the boxer to open up to him. Jack took a deep breath, glanced at the priest on the other side of the barred window, then went back to looking at the space before him and finally spoke up:

"Bless me, father, for I have sinned." Another moment of silence, like Jack forgot what should be next. However, he quickly remembered. "It has been twenty years since my last confession. Well, about twenty years and three months, I guess. It was in July… I think." He smiled to his thoughts, like he was finding it amusing. But then he stopped smiling. "So let's start from skipping the mass for twenty years."

"You were dead, Jack. I think it's a justified reason for not attending the church." Father Lantom said.

"Right. Erm…" The boxer's eyes rolled on the confessional's ceiling, like he was looking for any prompts on what to say next. "But I missed today's mass."

"You were in the hospital, waiting for your son's operation to be over. Besides, it wasn't the only mass today, you know."

The priest couldn't resist the impression that there was one certain sin Jack wanted to confess, but he was purposely prolonging it.

"I…" The boxer began again. "I've raised a hand on my son."

Father Lantom looked at him with a mild surprise.

"For disciplinary purposes?" Was his only reply.

"No, father." Jack's voice was shaking.

"How it happened?"

And so Jack told him about the moment, when Matthew revealed his big secret; about all the feelings that passed Jack's head back then, and about the sudden realization that his son wasn't as defenseless as boxer originally thought. Only when that was over, he started to explain his attack on Matthew.

"I… I wanted to check his reflex. Find out if my suspicions were right. I thought it was a good idea back then. But, father," He turned to the priest. "you should see his eyes, when he blocked my attack."

Father Lantom tried to imagine what Matthew's expression looked like in that situation and that was enough to understand what Jack must have felt right now. For a man, who was making a living from fighting (not to mention, having a devil inside of him, as Matthew put it), Jack Murdock was never violent or abusive father. He was very careful to keep the "devil" on the ring; to never bring him home and let him lay all Jack's frustrations on Matt. The priest knew it, because Jack was telling him about his doubts in the confessional many times in the past.

"Have you told Matthew, why you did that?" Father Lantom asked.

"I… I've told him, I'm sorry, but I needed to check something."

"How much force did you use?"

"Well… not much. Just enough so it would seem like an attack."

"So you were holding back?"

"Well, yes. Yes, I did."

Father Lantom smiled to his thoughts.

"Do you seriously think, Jack," He began. "that a man, who can fight, using his four other senses, wouldn't notice that you were holding back? Especially since that man was watching your every battle for almost nine years of his life?"

The priest was silent, letting these words and the meaning behind them sink in. After couple of seconds he heard Jack saying in more relaxed voice:

"Maybe you're right, father. Matty is a smart kid…" He abruptly cut in and once again stayed quiet for a moment. Then he gave a cheerless chuckle. "You know, father, I should stop calling him 'Matty'. He's a man now…" He gave a soft sigh. "But I find it hard not to see him as a child anymore."

"Well, it's natural, Jack. There are times when parents see their adult offspring as children, in one way or another. It's important that you're aware of it and you're trying to see him as a man he became."

"That's the biggest problem, father." Jack whispered. "In the man that Matt became."

Father Lantom wanted to tell Jack about the demons that were plaguing Matthew every time, he was doing his Daredevil work; about doubts and fear that he might one day lose control over the "devil" inside of him. But the priest knew that – even if the seal of the confession wouldn't be in power here – it was something Matthew had to confess to his parent himself.

"Do you know what was the most horrible day in my life, father?" Jack asked suddenly.

For a moment father Lantom wasn't saying anything. Not because he didn't know answer for that question, but because he actually did know it… Although, the last events could give Jack few candidates for the second or third worst day of his life.

"It was a day of Matt's accident." Nevertheless, the boxer decided to tell it anyway. "As I said, there is no way I will ever forget it. You know, father," His voice was quiet, filled with melancholy, but also some hidden anger. "ever since Matt told me that he's Daredevil, I constantly come back to that day. To my Matty lying helpless on the pavement and screaming that he can't see. To me trying to wipe away the toxin before it will get to his eyes. And to an old man saying that Matty saved his life." He slowly ran his hands down his face and gave another soft sigh, before continuing: "And I can't help but think that it would be better, if Matt let him die in this accident."

The silence that fell upon them short after was heavy. Father Lantom suspected that Jack expected some kind of condemnation on his part. However, the priest remained silent and waited for the boxer's next words.

"I know," Jack's voice became even more shaky, like he was on the verge of tears. "it's a horrible thought to think, father. But Matt wouldn't become blind if he never pushed this old man out of the way." He gave another sigh, this one was heavy and filled with resignation. For a moment he sounded more calm. "But he did push him out of the way. Because that's just how Matty is. Brave, always ready to save others, with strong sense of justice. And whenever he notices someone in need, he have to help."

Father Lantom smiled softly. He couldn't put it in better words. He was going to say something, when Jack suddenly continued:

"But here's the thing, father: whenever he does it, he gets hurt." He glanced at the barred window. "First, he lost his sight, saving an elderly man. Now, he's in hospital, because he was fighting with some thug." His voice started to shake again. "Why can't he be just a lawyer? Why does he have to go out and risk his life? Yes, I know, he's brave and wants to help others… but he's just a one man. He can't fix the whole world on his own. And what if…" He suddenly cut, like the thing that he was going to say was too painful for him to finish the sentence. He took a deep breath and started again: "What if he one day get himself killed?"

It wasn't that father Lantom didn't put into consideration that Jack would be worried over Matthew because of his work as Daredevil. In fact, the boxer's doubts were fairly natural. However, his words suddenly made the priest realize that Jack wasn't as much angry with his son, as he was afraid for Matthew's safety. And, really, everybody, who cared about the young man and knew about his secret, feared for his health and life. From the woman, who was regularly fixing his wounds, to his best friend. After all, Matthew was doing a very dangerous job and only recently got a better body armor.

"There is one last sin I want to confess. A really terrible sin, father." Jack said.

For the next couple of minutes Jack was telling the priest about a certain event in his life and about the enormous guilt he felt over it. Father Lantom listened carefully. He suspected that this kind of feelings and thoughts were crossing the boxer's mind at least once from the moment he learned the truth about Matthew. And when the priest was listening, he was also forming in his head what to say to Jack and what kind of penance give him.

When Jack finished and said he didn't remember any other sins, the priest straightened himself on his seat and glanced at his confessor.

"I could tell you many things, Jack. Some of it you probably know very well, either way. However," He straightened himself again. "I won't say anything. Instead, here's the penance I will give you." He could see how Jack neared himself closer to the window to hear him better… which was weird because they were alone and perfectly hearable. The priest continued: "You will go to your son and if he'll be in good enough state to listen to you, you will tell him what you've told me. You two really need to talk and since Matthew will be stack in the hospital either way, you may as well do it, when he's in hospital. With caution, of course. Do you understand, what I've told you?"

"Yes, father." Was all Jack said about it.

"Good."

Father Lantom cut the sign of cross in the air and gave the boxer absolution.

* * *

At first there was the world covered in wool. Then the sounds started to get through the wool and getting louder and louder. Next there were smells that inevitably confirmed his suspicions about his current location. Finally, the pain in his left side was getting stronger, although, it was more numb than he remembered.

He was in the church. He was talking with someone… his side was aching and he couldn't focus. He wanted to know if that someone will eat dinner with him. It wasn't a woman, no it was someone else… someone close to him… someone, who for some reason shouldn't be here, but he was, and that was great… but also mysterious… and confusing… and…

He was hit. He was fighting with someone the other night and that person hit him. Probably that was why his left side was aching. Somehow, someway, his opponent managed to injure his spleen through the armor suit.

Suddenly it all came back to Matt… the fight, the talk with his father, and then the fall. The last thing he remembered was the heat of Jack bending over him. An odd thought crossed Matt's mind in that moment: It was like back then, after the accident. Him lying helpless on the cold ground, while his father calls to him. And now Matt woke up in the hospital, surrounded by unwanted stimuli, slowly recalling what happened to him. But he wasn't as scared as back then, even though the smells and sounds reminded him of that little boy's fear.

 _I'm right here. I'm right here with you…_

Matt couldn't help, but smile at that memory. He could still remember the feeling of his father's face under his fingers; and the soothing whispers coming to him among the obnoxious mix of sounds and voices coming to him from everywhere. His dad was like a safe bay in the middle of storm, a promise of hope in the chaos.

It wasn't long time before Matt caught the familiar scent of his parent. A bit fainted, so he deduced that his father had been in this room for a bit… but now was gone. At first Matt felt sad about it, he would gladly welcome Jack sitting there and talking with him (maybe they could also made some arrangements for this dinner they both agreed on…). He then remembered, however, that his dad should stay in the hiding. It was still a bit weird that father Lantom let him go out to the hospital, because Matt doubted that Jack was the one, who called the ambulance. The lawyer could also smell the scent of the priest, alongside with Foggy's and Karen's, so it wasn't like father Lantom didn't know about Jack's escapade.

Speaking of familiar presences in the hospital…

"Hello, my battered Sleeping Beauty!"

Foggy entered the room and sat at the chair that was probably near the hospital bed. Matt smirked.

"How are you feeling?" The playfulness in his business partner's voice suddenly changed into concern.

"My left side hurts." Matt explained and he quickly realized that his voice, on the other hand, sounded sore.

"That's because you have an injured spleen." Foggy replied.

"Well, I kinda figured it out on my own."

"Of course you do." Nelson huffed. "You probably can feel every organ in your body, even if it's not in burning pain. Anyway," His tone changed into more serious. "you will have to rest for a few weeks. If you do anything reckless, you will in need for next operation. And I'm not gonna pay for your hospital bills, if you do. Also, prepare for tons of painkillers."

"I suppose there is no use in asking to leave the hospital early?"

"Nope. At least for tonight." Was Foggy's response.

"That's what I thought."

There was a moment of silence, when both lawyers didn't know how to continue the conversation. Finally Matt decided to break it.

"Was dad… here?" He began uncomfortably.

At first Foggy didn't reply. Matt could hear him straightening himself in the chair, before he cleared his throat and gave his friend a proper response:

"Yes, he… he and father Lantom came here together before me and Karen arrived."

"And nobody recognized him?"

"He had a protective mask, so his identity was at least partly concealed."

"Oh… That's good, I guess."

Matt didn't know what to think about this idea. Well, it was clever, but not perfect. Sooner or later, someone could have see past this disguise and recognize Jack. And it could end badly.

"Well," Foggy clapped his knees and stood up. "I will call to the parish and tell them, you woke up."

"Why did they left, anyway?"

"You know, little Catholic boy, priests have these things called 'masses', they have to deliver every Sunday to their fellow parishioners."

"Oh, right." Matt suddenly felt stupid for asking. Shit, he wanted to go on that mass.

"But father Lantom, being good shepherd that he is, said he will come check on you later."

"Fair enough," Matt commented. He suddenly got serious and asked another question: "And dad came back to the parish with him?"

"No," The movement in the air inclined that Foggy shook his head. "he was sitting here with you for a bit. We were talking for a little while and then he suddenly decided to leave. He said he have to go to confession, before he come back."

Confession? What his dad wanted to confess? Maybe it was something from before or after the fight, or maybe the fight itself. Or maybe… maybe it was something that happened after his resurrection? Although, Matt was aware of few shameful things his dad did in the past, he doubted it was something really serious. All in all, his father was a good man.

 _I guess, it was too early, after all…_

The memory of Jack's fist being blocked by Matt, and everything that came after, flashed in lawyer's mind. Matt pushed this thought aside. He didn't want to think about it right now, when he was lying on the hospital's bed and he could hear other patients if he didn't focus on something enough.

"Do you need something?" Karen asked suddenly. "I can go to your apartment and bring you anything."

Matt realized that she just entered the room, while Foggy left it, probably to call father Lantom just like he said he would. That was what Matt was thinking about – he was too distracted to notice that one person came in, while the other came out. (Although, it was possible that it was also the medications' fault. He still felt dizzy and kinda sleepy.)

"No, I don't need anything in particular… I think." He said and gave a soft sigh. "I just want to go home."

"Maybe later." Karen replied.

There was some strange undertone in her voice. Like she wanted to add: "No, Matt, your ass will stay in the hospital until your spleen get better." But it could also be his brain on drags mishearing things.

"You know, mister Battle was here too." She began in a more nonchalant way.

"Really?" Matt tried to sound surprised. "Was he sick?"

"Well, he did have a protective mask on his face… but I don't think so." She replied and took a seat. "He came with father Lantom and he was sitting with us, when you were operated. I guess, you were right all along. He knows you. And he cares for you."

"Really nice of him."

"I wonder who he really is. Your long lost father or something?"

Matt winced, hearing this.

"I'm sorry." Karen quickly realized her mistake.

"No, no, it's nothing." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine."

"Either way," The secretary apparently decided to move on to the safer subjects. "I've told mister Battle that if he want to come with his case to us, our doors are always open."

"Good." Matt nodded. He didn't know what else he could say.

* * *

It wasn't long, before father Lantom received news about Matt's awakening. Jack thought he wasn't ready for talk with his son, and the priest didn't press him. He just told him to stay on the parish and left to the hospital. But he said that tomorrow the boxer will have to come.

Once again Jack found himself sitting in the church. This time, however, he was thanking God for the operation. And again – he started to recall the night in the hospital, when he was silently praying for his son to turn out fine.

He didn't know how much time passed, but soon he heard someone's entering the church. He didn't move from his place. He tried to focus on the prayer. However, he could still hear the steps on the church floor as the person behind him was coming closer and closer, and few feet away stopped to take a seat on the bench right behind the boxer.

And then Jack felt the poke on his shoulder. He decided to ignore it. But then came another poke. He also didn't turn back. The person, who wanted to caught his full attention, neared to the boxer and whispered:

"I know, who you are, Battlin' Jack Murdock."


	14. Part 14

**Part 14**

The voice was raspy. Jack quickly realized it belonged to an old man. The boxer didn't recognize it and he felt his heart starting to beat faster. He wanted to tell the mysterious man behind him: "You've mistaken me for someone else.", but he didn't say anything. He didn't even look back, because he didn't want to show this man his face.

"Moreover," The stranger spoke again. "I know why you're here."

This intrigued Jack enough that he overcame his fear and slowly turned back. As he expected, he saw an old man – wrinkled, thin, with white hair and nearly worn-out, green clothes – but the view surprised the boxer. The reason for this surprise laid in old man's sunglasses and white cane in his lean, dried hands. Something clicked in Jack's brain and for a moment he was just staring at the elder with astonishment. Finally – despite himself – he smiled wryly and said:

"Mister Stick, I suppose."

His son's former mentor smirked.

"So Matty had told you about me?" He assumed. "Good, I don't have to introduce myself."

Jack felt anger boiling inside of him.

"I swear, if you weren't blind, I would drag you out of here and punch you in the face."

Stick smiled even wider.

"I thought we established already that not every blind man is helpless." He neared himself closer to Jack and whispered: "Besides, who do you think taught your little Matty how to fight?"

Jack only frowned. There were so many things he wanted to tell this guy in that moment. On the one hand, he wished to berate him for abandoning Matt, but on the other hand, he wanted to know more about what the bastard knew about Jack's current situation. Two feelings – anger and curiosity – were fighting inside of him and he didn't know, which one he should satisfy first. And so the boxer was silent.

"If you know how I got here," He said finally. "just tell me. And get out of here, before I will kick your ass."

Stick chuckled.

"I'd like to see you try. Figuratively speaking, of course." The old man straightened himself and gave Jack another smirk. "Let's get this over with." He got serious and began: "As you probably can imagine, you shouldn't be here. You were dead for twenty years and puff! – one beautiful day you're back. And you're probably wondering how it happened and – more importantly – will it stay that way."

"You know, if you keep postponing the answer, you will earn that punch in the face faster."

Another smug smirk. Now the guy was just annoying.

"Said a guy, who gets punched for living." Stick became serious again. "You see, Jackie boy, I'm a member of an old order. What we do, is not important right now. What _is_ important, however, is that some of our members possess an ancient knowledge on the field of magic."

"Magic?" Jack raised his eyebrows with skepticism.

"Yes, magic. And if you keep interrupting me, _I_ will punch _you_ in the face. Now," Stick leaned his cane next himself. "this unique knowledge also includes the ways of bringing back the dead."

Jack was taken aback by this statement. A memory flashed before his eyes.

 _If I knew how to bring back dead people, I wouldn't tell just anybody, but person who seemed to be responsible enough for that kind of power._

 _What do you want to say, Matty?_

 _I think there can be a fourth option…_

"The fourth option…" Jack whispered absent-mindly. He looked at Stick and said: "So one of you resurrected me?"

"Either one of us, or someone from some other secret society." The old man replied. "But it was probably us. And I know who it is and why they did what they did." Jack thought that it will be the moment when Stick reveal this information to him, however, what the blind man said next was: "But that's not important right now. The important thing is that you won't stay alive forever."

For some reason Jack wasn't surprised by that statement. After all, he never expected that resurrection will make him immortal. Even if he has been brought back to life, he knew that one day he will die either way.

"You see, Jackie," Stick went on. "the resurrected person can stay alive only for a short amount of time. Sooner or later… probably sooner… the natural order will claim your ass, and you will turn into ashes. And there's nothing you can do with it."

Jack felt uneasiness in his heart, nevertheless, he asked, just to be sure:

"Wait, so you're saying that…?"

"You will be gone the same way you've come back."

These words fell on Jack like a fist of an opponent. He will die… Of course, he was putting to consideration that his stay here, on Earth, could be temporary, but now, when he knew it was true, he felt like he has been diagnosed with a terminal disease.

"It's sad, I know, but that's how it is and if you're smart, you don't fuck with natural order." Stick said and for a moment Jack thought that something akin of empathy crossed the old man's face.

The boxer was just observing him for a couple of seconds, speechless, before he finally regained his voice and asked:

"How much time do I have?"

Stick didn't respond at first. He took the glasses off and now Jack could see his gray, blank eyes. For a moment he looked like he wanted to sigh, but he was holding it back. And then he smiled, and this time his smile was devoid of his previous meanness.

"Few days have passed since your resurrection, Jackie boy," He began. "but I think that the person who brought you back, will try to give you as much time as possible."

"So how long?" Jack inquired further.

"A month. More or less." Stick replied, still smiling. And then he stopped. "Now, how you use the remaining time, is totally up to you. And probably Matty. I think there is nothing else I can add, so" He stood up, all of sudden and said: "good day, Jack."

And he directed towards the exit. Jack rapidly raised from his bench and called after him:

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?! Come back here!"

Stick stopped.

"What now?" He asked, a bit annoyed as if Jack was bothering him with questions all day.

"I didn't finish with you, bastard!"

"Oh, yeah?" Stick's eyebrows raised and he finally turned to the boxer. "And what are you going to do, Jackie boy?"

"First off, you're going to answer me some questions. Then I'm gonna kick your ass for abandoning Matty when he needed you."

Another smirk graced the old man's face as Stick said:

"You know, I was actually hoping, you would want to fight me. I was eager to find out how much this kid really took from you. Alas," He wore an expression of false sadness. "we can't do it right here. We would wreck the whole place and you wouldn't want it, would you, Jackie boy?"

Jack suddenly felt ashamed for picking up a fight in the church. But then he looked fiercely at the man in front of him and responded:

"We can always go outside."

"Yes, we can. But you would risk getting recognized." The old man shook his head. "There is honestly not much secluded place for two warriors to duel in this city. Well, I guess we will have to wait for some other time."

Jack observed him for a moment. Stick looked like a normal blind elderly man – he looked fragile and old, and oh, so harmless! The boxer realized that he would probably hesitate to attack him just because of his appearance. After all – only a bastard would hit a blind man.

"Look, Jack," Stick said all of sudden. "before you go and say something stupid, like: 'You shouldn't have leave Matty in the orphanage.', put into consideration how he got there in the first place."

Jack balled his fists in anger.

"Besides," Stick added and started to walk in exit's direction once again. "remember that you have been resurrected in certain purpose. You have month to fulfill that purpose."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack called after him. "And what purpose it is?"

Matt's former mentor stopped and turned to Jack one last time.

"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked. "It's closure."

And so he left. Astonished by his words, Jack let him leave.

* * *

Stick also stepped by to talk with Matt. However, he had to wait for almost two hours until his former pupil's friends went home and, of course, the moment when the kid sensed him, he was hostile. Long story short, if it weren't for drugs that made Matt a little dizzy (considerable more than a normal person after the narcosis), Stick would have to use brute force to restrain him.

"I've told you to get out my city."

The kid was a broken record in that regard. Stick almost rolled his eyes, hearing it. He took a moment to listen to Matt's heart. Of course it was beating faster due to anger that was boiling inside of him, but Stick wondered if there was also something else, like worry. Before he was sensed by Matt, he could hear that he was relaxed and content. Well, even if the kid wasn't worried right now, he was going to be soon.

"Okay, Matt." The old man sat at the chair. "Normally I would be happy to exchange some witty banter with you, but there are few things we have to talk about and I prefer to move right to the point."

"We have nothing to talk about."

In spite of his better judgment, Stick smiled.

"I think we do, Matty. Don't you wanna know how daddy dearest came back from dead?"

Matt was silent. This time his heartbeat indicated a sudden change in the mood. The anger transformed into astonishment. For a moment Stick thought he will ask: "How did you know?", but then came another change – an understanding. And Matt chuckled cheerlessly. _Of course, you would know_ – The kid's unspoken response hanged in the air. – _You're a clever bastard._

"Well then." He began with a 'going-straight-to-the-point' tone. "Tell me."

Stick decided that son's knowledge shouldn't be bigger than father's, so first he explained the general idea of his order being able to resurrect the dead.

"Okay, what's so funny?" He asked when he realized that Matt's lip muscles formed into a smirk.

"I kind of thought it could be something like this."

"Of course you did." Stick commented as a matter of fact. "Only an idiot wouldn't get it."

Without further ado Matt went straight to the point.

"So you're saying that a member of some secret order decided to resurrect my dad?"

"Yep."

"And that member was who exactly?"

"That's not important right now."

"No, it's _very_ important. I want to know, who was it and why they did it."

"Oh, I can tell you right away why they did it. It was because of some stupid sentiment."

Stick noticed another change in Matt's heartbeat. Once again the kid was surprised.

"What kind of sentiment?"

"You know, a sentiment. Somebody thought that it would be really nice to help you solve your daddy issues."

Matt was probably going to say something, but he refrained from it. It seemed that he quickly understood the implications of Stick's statement. After a moment of silence he said:

"This sounds crazy and I can't believe that I'm asking this, but… was it you?"

"What?!" Stick almost screamed. "Kid, who do you think I am? Your therapist?"

"Well, as far as I recall, you're the only known member of your supposed order, who knows about what happened to my dad and how I felt about it."

"I'm also the only known by you member of said order. Besides, it's not so hard to learn about your past and how it affected you. Either way, no, Matty, it wasn't me."

"Then who?"

"That's not important."

"You know, I'm starting to think that you're saying it just to be a dick."

There was a moment, when Stick was seriously considering telling Matt who should he thank for his father's return, but the old man refrained from it. It didn't matter right now. Right now there were far more pressing matters to discuss.

So instead Stick told Matt the bad news. It was quite fascinating how the bodies of both Murdocks reacted so much alike. First the abrupt lowering of the temperature, when the realization hit them. Then the heart that slowered down but the beating sounded really loud (although, maybe it was just Stick paying too much attention to it). And finally a general speechlessness as the Murdock in question was contemplating what he just heard.

"A month." Matt whispered eventually.

He sounded just the way Stick expected him to sound – sad, hurt and vulnerable. There were probably other, less noticeable emotions too, but Stick didn't care for them. The important thing was that the kid was aware of the time remained before his father will come back to being dead.

"Is there no way to let him stay?" He asked, just like Stick expected him to say.

"Month is the longest he can remain alive, Matty. It is not possible to prolong it."

"Oh, yeah?" Matt's tone changed suddenly. Stick could easily detect an anger boiling inside of the kid. "And how would I know, you're saying it just to screw with me? As far as, I know, it must be some kind of sick joke on your part."

Stick would lie if he said he didn't expect that. He sighed and hit his interlocutor with his cane.

"I don't joke about the matters of natural order. Remember about it the next time you will imply something so stupid."

What a shame that Matt was too dizzy to dodge the hit, but oh, well… at least Stick got the point across that thick skull.

Another moment of silence. The sadness was hanging in the air. Stick could almost taste it with his tongue. Suddenly he felt kinda awkward and he knew that it could become even more awkward the longer he would stay here. Besides, the kid needed to be left alone now.

So the old master stood up. However, before he exited the hospital room, he told Matt:

"Look, kid, you can sit here, moping all day about your daddy's inevitable death, or use the remaining time and spend some time with him. Your choice."

Matt didn't say anything… at first. Stick could, however, deduce that his former protégé was pissed at him. Finally he spoke, and – to Stick's surprise – he sounded tired.

"Just go away."

And so Stick went away.

While walking down the hospital's corridor, the old man couldn't help, but be curious how this all was going to end. By now, he had few more important things to do, but he decided that he will come back and check on Murdock boys.

Besides, he still wanted to fight with Jackie boy. Stick smiled to his own thoughts. Yes, this battle could turn out to be very informative… not to mention entertaining.

* * *

 **So I wrote Stick...**

 **For quite some time I'm thinknig about writing something with him and I have some kind of vision of this character. Nevertheless, in that chapter I tried to make him mean... but not necesserily dickish. He shouldn't be the "he cares, but doesn't show it". He only displays information, because he thinks that Matt and Jack should be aware of how much time they have.**

 **At least in that fanfic.**

 **Anyway, review, please!**


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